HeartBound (The Renascentia Trilogy: Book One)
by Warrior-Maid-of-the-Shadows
Summary: It's been a year since Loki's attack and Earth has been mostly at peace. Until Freyja, goddess and Vanir, returns. Despite her rough beginning, she holds the key to all of the worlds' secrets. But she won't give them up easily, as they lead to her own past. When an old enemy returns, she is faced with a difficult question. Can she give up everything for the good of the worlds?
1. Prologue: The Prophecy

_**Just as a side-note, I like to think of Hans Zimmer's "Time" as a theme for this book, as it suits the plot. Take a look and you'll see what I mean.**_

_**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Marvel, Thor or the Avengers. I would hope that's obvious.**_

* * *

"There will come a time when all seems lost. The Nine Realms will face threats that will change the very perception of reality. War will loom in the distance as the realms fade away one by one.

"The dawning of the end shall be marked by the evanescence of the Elder Race. The heavens will weep and blood will paint the once paradise. A green-eyed serpent shall escape the shadows and change the fate of the All-Father's pride.

"When all seems lost, the daughter of the sea and Princess of peace shall fall for the sake of the Realms. A warrior with blood of fire and earth will rise in her stead, marking the rebirth of all. On an ivory throne, the halfling shall sit, ushering in an era of prosperity for every being in existence.

"The serpent and phoenix shall share the crystal kingdom, allying the realms unlike ever before. No facet of existence will remain the same. All shall greet the change that comes with Renascentia."


	2. Chapter 1: Extraterrestrial

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Okay, let me just give you a quick warning. This is an unedited version of this story. When I have finished, I will go through an extreme editing process to polish it up. However, I'm not infallible and would love it if some of you could point out any factual or grammatical errors in reviews. Everything is appreciated. Also, my knowledge of Marvel topics is limited to the database and movies, so it's not going to be completely by the book. I do take a few creative liberties. Anyway, I hope you enjoy._**

* * *

_"Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody."_

_ -Stephen Chbosky_

* * *

Freyja stared wearily out the window of her small rocket as she grew closer to the Earth's surface. She was roughly a hundred miles from the north-eastern coast of the U.S. and steadily growing closer. She brushed her unruly black hair out of his eyes, reached for the radio and tuned into a government station, not quite sure how to begin.

"Testing, testing. This is 'Dark Star' at ninety-two miles off your coast, requesting permission to land. Over."

Silence. Making sure she had done everything correctly, she repeated her request. Worried at the silence that greeted her announcement, she hoped her message was being received. She sighed and replaced the radio, determined to continue towards land.

* * *

One hundred and fifty-six miles away, at the new S.H.I.E.L.D. base, Agent Maria Hill listened to the strange message on the radio. She had been monitoring all unauthorized aircraft approaching the U.S. when she heard the transmission. She turned to the agent next to her.

"Get me Fury," she said shortly.

The agent nodded and rushed off to find him.

"Johnson, any information on that jet?"

Johnson, a brunette man in his late thirties, looked baffled at her question, "Not a single scrap. It's not even a known model. I've never seen anything like it."

"A new model?"

He shook his head, "I doubt it."

"Agent Hill, what is Mathers going on about?" Fury's voice came from behind her.

"There's an unidentified jet not a hundred miles from our coast requesting permission to land, sir."

"What model?"

"We don't know, sir."

He stared at her with a look of sheer irritation. It had only been a year since Earth's last visitor and repairs had only recently been finished. They couldn't afford to have another super-human terrorize the cities.

"Send our three best fighter jets to see what it is," he instructed. "And Barton. We may need him for this."

Five minutes later, Clint Barton was leading the other two jets towards Freyja's plane. Not long after, Barton spotted the jet in the distance. His eyes widened as he recognized the design from the time he spent under Loki's control. He tuned his radio to the other jets.

"Target spotted. Fire at will. We take no prisoners."

He narrowed his eyes, wondering where the ship had come from and who could possibly be driving it.

* * *

Freyja yawned, wishing someone would answer her request. She stared out into the clouds, suddenly aware of a shape approaching. The shape focused until she could recognize another jet. _Finally_, she thought. But as it grew closer, she began to feel nervous and her instincts screamed that something wasn't right.

Before she could realize what was wrong, missiles shot out of the oncoming jet. And they were heading straight towards her. She scrambled for the radio with one hand as she pulled the jet upward, narrowly dodging the missiles.

"Dark Star to attacking pilot. I don't want a fight. Disengage, repeat, disengage!"

She swerved to avoid the missiles as they chased after her. She watched in horror, unaware that they were heat-seeking, as they turned sharply to keep on her trail.

"Dark Star to attacking pilot. Requesting for you to disengage."

She abandoned his idea of trying to reason with the pilot and concentrated fully on keeping her jet in the air. She dove, ascended, swerved, and twirled in the air desperately trying to escape the missiles.

Barton watched from his jet as the strange aircraft went through a series of complicated patterns in attempt to get away. He shot off the last of the heat-seeking missiles and began to wait for the enemy to make a mistake. The messages he had received on his radio from the enemy were spoken in an accent that sounded similar to British or possibly Australian but not exactly the same.

It was strange but he felt as if he should recognize it. He waited, growing more uncertain of his task, for the pilot to take a hit.

"Dark Star to attacking pilot. Disengage! Abort!"

Static crackled as the message came through, as if received from an old radio. Barton picked up his radio and tuned it to the pilot.

"Dark Star, this is Hawk," he said, using the official name of his plane. "I need your identification."

"Identification?"

"Who are you working for?"

"No one!" the voice was exasperated now.

"Make this easy for yourself and tell me who you're working for, what equipment you're on and why you're coming here."

"I don't work for anyone! I don't know what equipment you speak of! My name is-"

Freyja, who wasn't paying as much attention to flying as she should have been, was cut off as a missile hit the back engine. She was flung forward, her head smacked against the window painfully. Spots danced in front of her eyes as she tried to wipe away the blood running down from the new cut on her forehead.

"Dark Star? Do you copy?"

She picked up the radio again, "Dark Star here. The jet's damaged badly, it won't last much longer."

"I need you to give me your identification."

"I told you, I-"

She cried out, startled as another missile collided with the left wing. The wheel jerked to the right in her hand, hitting the third missile. Her head hit the window again, this time knocking her unconscious.

"Dark Star!" Barton yelled into his radio as he watched the jet spiral down to the ocean at an alarming speed.

He raced towards the falling jet, hoping desperately the pilot inside wasn't dead. He tuned his radio to the other pilots as he flew forward.

"Hawk to Red One and Two. Change of plans, retrieve pilot and take back to home."

Red One and Two started toward 'Dark Star' in hope to retrieve the strange jet. Barton was beginning to believe that this wasn't what they originally thought. The pilot didn't seem to have any prior knowledge of piloting and, surprisingly, sounded like a young woman. The jet hit the surface of the water and started to float, rocking violently as the waves battered it.

From his jet, Barton could just make out the outline of someone tall and thin behind the glass. A thick, dark liquid was splattered across the inside of the glass in the front, partially obscuring the figure. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to get a good glimpse at the person in the ruined plane. The more he looked, the stranger the figure seemed to be.

"What are you?" he whispered to no one in particular.

* * *

The few people who were in the crowd stared at the creature that had been revealed when a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had pried the glass off of the tattered jet that Barton had brought back. It was obviously female, and young, but the appearance was far from mundane.

She was tall and thin, about seven and half feet in length, with blue-black skin and shoulder-length, messy black hair. Her face was slender and adorned with sharply angled eyebrows, slanted eyes, thick eyelashes, a slim nose, full lips, a pointed chin, and narrow cheekbones that were so pronounced they looked like they would break through the skin. But it wasn't her features alone that where out of the ordinary.

She wore a forest green tunic and pants were worn but had obviously once been luxurious and a cloak of feathers flowed down to her feet. A thick armband consisting of seven rows of platinum beads strung together embellished her upper right arm while silver and gold rings holding various precious gems decorated her fingers and an intricate necklace of platinum beads lay across her collarbone. A silver circlet was worn on her head.

"What do you suppose it is?" asked one of the agents from the back of the crowd.

"Trouble," Nick Fury answered irritably. "Take it to the lab. I want every scientist who has any experience in extraterrestrial studies in that lab. Contact Eric Selvig and get him here immediately. He may know something of use."

With that, he left the scientists and agents to scramble to follow his orders. Barton watched from a distance as three of them carried the girl away to a lab. Something told him that this girl wasn't a threat; that he ought to know what she was. He dismissed the thought and left the room.

In the laboratory, the three scientists placed Freyja on an examination table, locking iron manacles in place to keep her from moving if she woke up. They proceeded to insert needles into her arms that kept track of her heartbeat, her blood pressure, and anything else they could learn from her.

Freyja was vaguely aware of the pain in unconsciousness, but too far away to respond. Her mind swirled around in the memories of happier times. Memories of her father, of her brother, her friends, and her love replayed in her head, lulling her into a false calm. While her mind wandered through her past, her body remained motionless and unresponsive for three days.

* * *

Freyja opened her electric blue eyes, only to flinch at the blindingly bright light above her. She went to shield her eyes but recoiled as the iron burned her skin. Biting back a shriek, she blinked furiously in hope her eyes would adjust to the harsh brilliance.

Dr. Erik Selvig, who sat in front of a laptop across from her, looked up surprise at the sudden movements. He stood up and walked closer to see what his specimen was doing. From her table, Freyja began to see her surroundings clearly, recognizing the figure next to her as human.

"Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "The iron burns me. Release me and I swear no harm will come to you."

"You speak English…"

"You're not listening. If you don't let me go, the iron will kill me."

"What are you?"

"Let me go and I shall tell you."

He put his hands on the table, "That's the one thing I can't do."

"Not a year before now, you put your faith in Prince Thor. If you trust the Asgardians, you can trust me."

"I can't-"

"Please!" she twisted her wrist so she could reach his hand.

Her fingers brushed his and he stiffened, his pupils dilating. He shook his head, eyes back to normal, and walked over to the control panel. The shackles snapped open at the push of a button and Freyja carefully sat up, making sure not to accidentally brush against the metal. Rubbing her wrists, she exhaled in relief, only to realize that something was missing.

"Where are my jewels? My emerald ring?" she asked.

Selvig shrugged, "They should still be in the other lab, being analyzed, but I'm not sure."

"Will you take me to them?"

"Of course," he smiled and walked out the door.

She hesitated at the edge of the room, "Are all your rooms made of glass?"

"No, but most of the rooms in this base are."

She didn't answer, instead passed wearily through the door and after him. While she followed, Freyja examined her surroundings with strong curiosity. Although she wasn't unfamiliar with metal walls, it was the type of metal and design that interested her. They soon reached the laboratory that held her possessions the scientists had managed to scavenge from her jet. The scientists stared as the two walked in nonchalantly.

"Dr. Selvig, what are you doing? Why have you released the extraterrestrial?" one scientist exclaimed.

"Extraterrestrial?" Freyja asked, confused.

"It's alright, Dr. Lansford. She won't hurt us."

"I'm just coming to get my possessions. Once I have everything, I'll leave you be," she announced, beginning to run her eyes across the tables.

She spotted her emerald ring along with the others on one of the tables. Walking carefully through the room on bare feet, she made her way towards the table. One of the scientists grabbed a Taser out of a compartment and aimed it at her, making her freeze.

Her eyes widened, "Whatever that weapon you hold is, do not harm me. I don't want a fight. I swear on my honor, as Princess of-"

She was cut off as the scientist pulled the trigger to the taser gun, sending the wires flying towards her. Two seconds later, she had slid to the ground and a group of agents, led by Nick Fury, came running through the door at the sound of glass shattering. Selvig blinked furiously, looking at the scene in horror.

Fury's eyes scanned the room, taking in every aspect. Everyone stood still, not sure what to do in response to the happenings.

"What happened here?" Fury enunciated each word slowly, forcing himself to remain calm.

All eyes went to Selvig who quietly mumbled, "She's a Vanir."

"A what?"

"A Vanir. They were believed to be the other group of gods besides the Aesir. Vanir are believed to be wise, shape shifters, and wielders of magic."

"Another Norse myth?"

He nodded gravely, "Most of them live in Vanaheim, but a few were known as gods in Asgard. She said she knew Thor."

Fury turned to one of the agents behind him, "You said Thor returned to Earth recently?"

The agent nodded, "Via the Tesseract about two days ago. He's in New Mexico."

"Get Dr. Jane Foster on the phone immediately. Tell her we need her boyfriend urgently."

"Yes, sir."

"The rest of you, get the girl back to her lab."

Selvig spoke up suddenly, "There's no need for the shackles this time. The Vanir gave up violence a long time ago."

Fury looked him over, "No shackles then, but keep some guards on duty at all times. We can't have her walking out of this place."

Fury left, along with the agent who was to call Dr. Foster. The three remaining agents carried Freyja out of the room. Selvig stood still as stone, unable to make himself move. In those few minutes, the Vanir had bent his will to her own, just as he had experienced a year ago. But her grip was not like Loki's; where the Asgardian had taken over him completely, the Vanir had simply filled his head with an overwhelming calm that stomped down every precaution.

One of the younger scientists walked closer to Selvig, "That – thing – can use magic?"

"Use it, manipulate it, and teach it. Even the Asgardians could not wield magic without being taught by the Vanir. In ways, they were more powerful than their god cousins."

* * *

Thor walked through the glass doors wearing a red plaid shirt half-open, a black tee and jeans and still his presence commanded attention from everyone who could see him. His lank blonde hair hung to his shoulders, muscles threatening to break through the too small T-shirt, eyes gleaming with interest as he walked through the halls after a black-haired agent.

"Who again did you say was your captive?" he asked in the lilting accent that matched Freyja's.

"We don't know who she is, and she's not our captive," the woman answered. "Selvig said she told him that she knew you."

"And she is of the Vanir?"

"Yes."

He thought about that, trying to narrow down the list of people she could be. He had been with many women in his time, but that could have been any of them. Shape-shifters are difficult to place.

The agent stopped outside of the glass door. Thor could just make out the blue-black-skinned figure of a Vanir lying on an examination table. He took a deep breath to control his shock. The Vanir very rarely took their true form, especially not before another species. The only place Vanir shed their false-skins was Vanaheim, and no outsider had seen its skies since the Æsir-Vanir war. He had heard the descriptions of their true form, but this was the first time he'd actually seen it.

"I'll leave Selvig to explain the rest to you," the agent left after she finished.

He walked through the door and surprised a disconcerted Selvig.

"Thor!"

"Selvig," Thor laughed as he embraced his friend. "What is this about a Vanir?"

Selvig gestured to the girl on the table, "They picked her up about a week ago not far off the coast. We have no clue who she is or why she came."

Thor took a closer look at the girl, "What is wrong with her?"

"Do you remember when Darcy tased you?"

"Aye."

"She received the same treatment."

Thor shook his head, "A shame. The Vanir are as harmless as air."

He nudged the girl with his fist, causing her to groan in response. Both men jumped at the sound.

"She's coming back around!"

Freyja opened her eyes slowly, trying to make sense of the blurry visions see was seeing.

"Thor?"

His eyes widened as he recognized the voice from his past, "Freyja?"

Selvig looked astounded, "Freyja? As in _the _Freyja, the goddess?"

Her eyes wandered towards Selvig, "You know of me? I have not visited Earth in nearly a millennium, how is it that you still know our stories?"

"Selvig knows all of our stories," Thor answered. "Freyja, what brought you here? I thought you were dead."

She sat up slowly, wincing as her muscles resisted, "I did not return in time to die."

"Dead? Why would she die?" Selvig asked, glancing between the two.

Thor turned towards him, "Vanaheim was destroyed by a strange army not long after the Norse stopped worshipping us. Only a few Vanir still live. Freyja left Asgard to fight for her people."

"I never made it," she whispered. "I was too late."

"Why did you not return to Asgard?"

Her eyes flashed with anger, "Odin refused to send troops to help us. He knew many of us could not fight and yet he sat in Asgard and watched as we fell. We were the second race to fall at Odin's hand. I will not bow down to a king who allows entire civilizations to fall."

"Calm yourself, Freyja. I am not my father and no one shall make you bow down."

She narrowed her eyes, "You are not the man I once knew. Something has changed you." –She examined him- "And why, pray tell, are you wearing such ridiculous Midgardian attire?"

He smirked, "I have changed. And I cannot simply walk around in battle armor. The sight of me would give anyone a heart attack."

"A what?"

"It is a Midgardian term. Why did you come to Earth?"

She shrugged, sliding herself off the table, "I thought it would make a suitable temporary home."

She glanced down at herself, "Is there any way you can talk these humans into returning my property?"

Her eyes suddenly flashed silver, becoming blank and vacant. Selvig watched with a mix of fear and interest.

"What is she doing? Working magic?"

Thor shook his head with a laugh, "No, she is examining the threads of the future."

Freyja shook her head, "The chances are very high."

"I'll try what I can."

"And may I walk with you, I feel as if my limbs have turned to stone."

"Of course," he helped her limp towards the door.

The three walked out of the room, Thor leading and Selvig bringing up the back. Freyja examined her surroundings with the same curiosity as before.

"Where are they keeping her possessions, Selvig?"

"Just down the hall, third door on the left."

Thor entered the room Selvig described, catching the interest of every scientist inside. Nick Fury looked up at the trio and returned his attention to the scientist in front of him, satisfied that Thor was there in case a problem arose.

"Would it be best if I revert to my Asgardian form?" Freyja asked as she examined the scientists. "It's seems I am the odd one out."

Thor shrugged, "You may if it makes you more comfortable."

"And may I borrow your strength? My energy is still working to heal the wounds I obtained."

He nodded and she put her hand on his shoulder. Where her skin touched his, silver and gold smoke began to form. The gold turned to silver as it coiled around her, up her arm and across her torso. Everyone watched in awe as she shrank slightly, taking on a pronounced hourglass figure, and the color of her skin and hair changed. Her features became softer, her hair turning a vivid shade of red, her skin paling to resemble that of a Scandinavian, a dusting of freckles appeared across her nose and cheekbones, leaving only her eyes the same strange shade of blue.

She let go of his shoulder, now just barely shorter than him, and the gold disappeared. The silver coils slowly faded away as she exhaled and turned her attention to the staring scientists.

"Whatever is the matter?"

"Humans can neither preform magic nor change their appearance more than a haircut," Thor answered helpfully.

She cocked her head to the side, "I forgot the Midgardians are not as adept as us. How exhausting it must be to stay limited to a single form." –She turned back to the scientists- "If it is alright with you, I'd like to retake my jewelry."

"Take what you need," Fury waved his hand impatiently. "Nothing is out of the ordinary."

"You are a princess and a goddess, you need not ask," Thor pointed out.

"I believe that manners are essential for everyone, be they noble or peasant." –She turned to Fury- "And you found nothing strange about my belongings because you know naught about them."

She walked over to her feather cloak, fingers brushing gently across it, "This cloak is coveted by many, mainly Jotunns, for its abilities to make one fall in love with another. My necklace can protect the wearer from the most powerful enchantments. And each of my rings holds energy to power my magic."

She fastened the necklace around her neck, donned the cloak, pulled the armband up, and placed the rings on her fingers before realizing something.

"Where is my emerald ring?"

"Emerald?" Thor asked, confused. "You do not have an emerald ring."

Her bright eyes flashed dangerously as her head snapped in his direction, "You must have never noticed it. I have had the ring since before I left Asgard."

"It's over here," Fury said, holding out the ring in the palm of his hand.

She walked slowly towards him, unsure of what he was planning. Very carefully, she picked the ring up. But as her fingers brushed his hand, bright burgundy smoke began to coil around his hand. She jerked her hand back quickly in response, and the fog disappeared.

"What is it you do, exactly, to make that smoke appear?" Fury asked.

"My aura ignites your own because I have recently used magic. It is helpful when I teach, but a nuisance any other time."

"You teach magic?"

"She was the first to teach us sorcery," Thor interrupted. "Some of us did not receive that gift, however."

"It is no fault of mine that you do not have the delicacy to wield magic," she snapped. "Am I to blame for your reliance on brute strength?"

He laughed, "That is not what you told me before. I believe you used the phrase 'I cannot teach a man who has the patience and creativity of a tree'."

Freyja looked offended, "I would never dishonor the Sylvans in such a shameful way. I'll have you know that every one of them, including the trees, have patience and creativity that outshines even that of my people. I said you had the patience of a _bilgesnipe_ and the creativity of a _rock._"

"Speaking of dishonoring persons in shameful ways, I apologize for that unfortunate event concerning Thrim."

"About time you apologized. I've never been so insulted in my life as that moment."

"Are we disrupting something?" Selvig asked cautiously.

"Nothing except a conversation that was long overdue," she slipped the ring onto her left ring finger as she spoke.

"Is that your wedding ring from Odr?"

Fear flashed in her eyes at Selvig's question, "Why would I wear a ring of Odr's on my hand?"

"Legend says you were his wife."

Thor's eyes widened in shock, "Selvig, I would not-"

"I was married to no man."

"Then why do you wear it?"

"Selvig…"

"There is a man I would marry, if he asked. This is his ring."

"I've never heard of anyone besides Odr that had any relationship with you."

"And it will remain that way. Is it proper here to ask a woman of her consorts?"

"Freyja, he meant no harm," Thor interrupted. "We should stray from the matter."

She nodded, "You are right." –She turned to Fury- "Thank you for your hospitality. I'll take my leave now."

"You cannot simply walk out of this fortress," Thor announced. "You have nowhere to go. Come back with me to Asgard."

She hesitated before saying, "I do not foresee my return to Asgard, Thor. I wish to stay here for the time being."

"There is nowhere for you to stay," he protested.

"Actually," Fury interrupted. "I think I have the perfect answer. There's a favor I need to call in."

"Where would you have her stay?" Thor asked.

"You're familiar with Tony Stark-"

"No. The man has neither respect nor manners. I will not condemn Freyja to his company."

"Come now, Thor. I tolerated you at your worst for six years. Do you honestly think I cannot handle a human?"

"I fought alongside this man in the battle against the Chitauri. I know you would not take well to him"

"I'll be the judge of that."

"I beg of you. Freyja, do you even know of what became of him?"

The laughter in her face disappeared, "Thor, what changed you?"

"I was banished."

"And what does _he_ have to do with that."

"He found out his heritage."

Her jaw dropped in horror, "No. How?"

"Let me show you," he held out his hand.

She took it gingerly, afraid of what she would see. Her eyes flashed silver again as he clasped her hand in his. A look of dismay crossed her face as she let go of his hand, sadness gathering in her eyes.

"I had no idea…"

"He needs you."

"Who is 'he'?" Fury asked irritably.

"It doesn't matter," she said, looking at the floor. "I will not go back. Both he and Asgard are in the past, and I strive for the future. As we all should."


	3. Chapter 2: Word Games

_"Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored."_

_ -Aldous Huxley_

* * *

The car ride out of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base was practically silent. Nick Fury sat across from Thor and Freyja who were talking quietly amongst themselves.

"You must tell me everything that happened since I left Asgard," she whispered. "Did I truly miss so much?"

"When Vanaheim was destroyed, we all thought you had died in the explosion. _He_ mourned the loss of you for months; no one could so much as coax him out of his room. Then one day he finally started his normal routine again, but he wasn't the same. He did his best to hide the fact, but your 'death' affected him greatly.

"A few years ago, on the day of my coronation, a few Frost Giants tried to regain the Casket of Ancient Winters. Out of spite, I traveled to Jotunheim with Loki, Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun to confront Laufey. Because of my pride, I destroyed the delicate truce we had established. We were saved by my father.

"He had me stripped of my powers and banished to Earth. An enchantment was placed on Mjolnir so no one unworthy may wield it. I landed in a kingdom called New Mexico and was cared for by Selvig, Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster.

"When I finally found Mjolnir, I could no longer lift it. I was captured by a man named Phil Coulson. Selvig convinced him to let me leave and I began to try to adjust to exile. Sif and the Three traveled here to bring me back, but Loki sent the Destroyer to stop them.

"I fought the Destroyer and my attempted sacrifice proved my worth. My powers returned and I defeated the automaton. We returned to Asgard to stop Loki who was planning to destroy Jotunheim in order to prove his worth to our father.

"I destroyed the Bifrost when I fought Loki, and he fell-"

"You destroyed the Bifrost?!" she screeched, making the driver jerk the wheel to the right.

"It was the only way to stop Loki-"

"The work of a million Vanir, lost forever," she rubbed circles into her temples as she closed her eyes. "I doubt that there are enough Vanir left to fix the bridge."

"I believe you may be able to fix it."

"Not without my brother. What happened after the Bifrost was broken?"

"Our father saved us from falling but Loki let himself fall through the abyss when he was refused approval for his actions. I stayed in Asgard until I heard Loki had come to Earth to gain control of the entire planet.

"The three Vanir that had remained in Asgard created a temporary portal to transport me to Earth. It was then that I met Tony Stark and Captain Steve Rogers. I was recruited into a group of warriors known as 'The Avengers'. It is made up of myself, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, and Steve Rogers.

"Loki stole a powerful energy source called the Tesseract and was attempting to bring an army of creatures called the Chitauri. It took us a few days to put aside our differences and confront Loki properly. We fought the Chitauri and Tony Stark risked his life to destroy the army from the other side of the portal with a device called a nuclear missile.

"Once Loki and his army were defeated, I took both him and the Tesseract back to Asgard where we have yet to determine the fate of either."

Freyja eyes snapped open, "Describe this Tesseract."

"It is a luminous blue cube that has the power to transport people between realms and control one's mind. That is all we know of it."

Her eyes widened and she pulled a silver-rimmed plate of diamond the size of a cell phone out of the pocket of the jeans Fury had lent her. She ran her thumb over the surface and the plate lit up. After typing in some strange characters, a blue cube appeared on the screen. She tapped it twice and the image floated off the surface and was projected into the air.

"Did it resemble this?"

Fury sat up and examined the picture with interest, "Where did you get this picture?"

"Did the Tesseract resemble this?" she asked again.

"An exact copy. We are planning on destroying it."

She dropped the crystal in surprise, "You cannot destroy it!"

"Freyja," Thor exclaimed at her outburst, "Why is this object so important to you?"

She bit her lip, "I do not think I can tell you. It is one of our most closely guarded secrets."

"The Tesseract was created by the hands of the Vanir."

She nodded gravely, picking up the diamond and then staring out the window.

"Why did the Vanir create this?" Fury asked suddenly.

Freyja continued to stare out the window stubbornly, her jaw clenched.

"I don't think you understand. I monitor potential threats to Earth, and the Tesseract became one of them when it was used to bring an army here. Now either you tell me now or things will get ugly. For what reason was the Tesseract made and why was it hidden on Earth."

Anger flared in her blue eyes as she turned to face Fury, but her voice was as cold as steel and sharp as glass, "You may threaten me however you please, force any tortures you can conjure up upon me, whatever methods you use on this planet. But I can assure you, Mr. Fury, you will kill me out of rage when all of them fail to loosen my lips."

She and Fury glared at each other, leaving Thor feeling as if someone was going to let their restraint loosen and teach the other a lesson. Freyja's stare was hard as stone and silently daring Fury to say something while his face portrayed endless determination and a pure lack of empathy.

"You will get nowhere with her, Fury," he finally announced. "The Vanir have the patience of the universe, often making plans that span throughout centuries. Even if she does talk, she will tell you half-truths that will leave you more confused than before. The Vanir are known for their nature of never lying and yet never telling the full truth either."

Freyja turned to him, expression lightening, "I'm impressed that you remembered so much. But our speech is only confusing to those who don't listen. Your brother had no problem understanding our tongue."

Thor laughed, "That is because, as you forget, Loki made a game of understanding that art. And excelled at it."

She nodded, "His riddling was almost as perfect as that of a Vanir."

Fury gave one last glare at Freyja, "We've arrived."

Freyja stared at the building as she got out of the car. A look of caution crossed her face.

"Are all of your buildings made of glass?"

"No, but many are. Why ask?"

"Glass does not…agree with us."

"And by that, you mean…?"

"It shatters at their touch," Thor answered.

"Our homes were made of quartz, marble, precious jewels, titanium, platinum and silver. It was beautiful during the sunrise…"

There was something sad and wistful about the tone in her voice that reminded Thor of the loss of Vanaheim. He wondered what it must be like to lose your home, your loved ones, and practically everything that mattered to you. He shook his head as Loki's face appeared in his mind. He had more important things to worry about than his brother, no matter how much he loathed the loss.

* * *

"Sir, Agent Nick Fury, Thor and a mystery woman are demanding to see you."

Tony Stark looked up from the screens on his desks, "Demanding or requesting, Jarvis?"

"Demanding, sir."

"How rude," he muttered. "And what mystery woman are you talking about?"

The image of a tall, thin woman with red hair and pale skin wearing dark blue jeans and a white blouse appeared on one of the screens. Thor was standing next to her while both walked after Nick Fury.

"There's not a match in the files."

"Perhaps she's a new agent," he said to himself.

"Nick Fury's on the intercom."

Stark pulled up the intercom screen, "This is Tony Stark's automated answering system. I'm busy at the moment and can't allow you to enter at this time. Please leave a message and come back later."

"Open up, Stark. I'm calling in a favor."

"I don't believe I owe you favor."

"Mexico City."

"I can't possibly still owe you for that!"

"That's for me to decide. Open up."

Stark pressed a button on the screen and the elevator doors opened.

"Who's the broad?"

"I beg your pardon?" she exclaimed.

"Her name's Freyja," Fury answered.

"Strange name, where's she from?"

"Asgard."

"Vanaheim," both Freyja and Thor corrected.

Stark sat back down in his chair, "What can I help you with?"

"Freyja needs somewhere to stay-"

"Oh, no," he stood back up. "This isn't a hotel. I don't allow just any strange women to stay for more than a night."

She raised her eyebrows, "Concubines are still appreciated here, I see."

Stark laughed, "I didn't mean 'concubines'. We're a lot more open here."

"Either way, I promise I will be no trouble to you."

"No."

"You won't owe me for Mexico City anymore if you do this," Fury reminded.

"I still don't approve of this," Thor mumbled.

"Don't worry, Cinderella. I'll take good care of her," Stark turned to Fury. "Is that all?"

Fury looked smug, "Yep. We'll be leaving now."

Thor bent slightly to whisper in Freyja's ear, "Always watch Stark. He's disrespectful and cunning."

"I can handle myself," she answered.

Thor walked out with Fury, leaving Freyja alone with Stark.

"So," he sighed, "You have a boyfriend?"

"Excuse me?"

"A boyfriend, a husband, a lover, a consort?"

She hesitated, "I currently have no lover but I am not open to welcoming one, either."

A playful smile crossed his face, reminding her of _him_, "Interesting answer."

He looked her up and down as if examining a particularly interesting specimen in a petri dish. She stood watching him as he walked around her, taking in every detail. She noted how his gait was more along the lines of a confident strut, the way he absently ran his fingers through his hair, the analyzing look in his eyes.

"You said you were from where?"

"Vanaheim," she gestured towards the desks. "May I?"

"Be my guest," he answered. "Where would Vanaheim be, exactly?"

"On the westernmost branch of the crown of the Yggdrasil, to be precise."

He watched as she examined the screens, "The crown of the what?"

"Yggdrasil is the world tree. I forget most of you Midgardians know not of our stories anymore."

He sat down in his chair, "I don't know anything about Norse mythology so you're going to have to tell me."

She straightened up, "I will tell you the least so as to not overwhelm you. There are nine worlds, all of which are positioned on a birch tree known as the Yggdrasil. Asgard, Vanaheim and Alfheim are all on branches that make up the crown. Midgard or, as you call it, Earth is in the center of the trunk. The rest are along the roots."

He nodded, "And how do you know Paul Bunyan?"

"How do I know whom?"

"Thor."

She suddenly became very interested in his computers again, "I've spent many years in Asgard. I would not say I know Thor well, though."

She looked out the window at the metal walkway, "How do you access that terrace?"

"Through the door," he said, sounding as if he were asking a question.

She walked over towards the glass and stared at it as if it was a difficult puzzle.

"Is something wrong?"

She laughed nervously, "I cannot touch glass."

"You can't touch glass?" he looked as he was going to laugh. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Well, I can touch it. The glass will simply shatter if I so much as brush against it. I believe it has something to do with my genetic code."

He raised his eyebrows, "You don't have the same DNA as humans."

This time she laughed genuinely, "Of course not. You are a man of science, are you not?"

"You could say that."

"Mayhap I will give you a blood sample so you may study the differences," she then raised a hand, silver mist curling from her fingers to the door. "Afterwards."

The door swung open and she walked out. Stark sat up straight to see what she was doing. She walked out onto the walkway until she was standing on the launch pad. She then sat down cross-legged, placed her hands on her knees and closed her eyes.

"Jarvis."

"Yes, sir?"

"What do you know about a place called Vanaheim?"

Screenshots of different websites and images appeared. Various pictures, mostly paintings of woodlands and mountainous regions appeared, popped up as well.

"There's not much on Vanaheim, which is one of the nine realms of Norse cosmology. It was home to the Vanir, a branch of the Norse gods, and is supposedly more beautiful than Asgard."

"Anything on Vanir?"

New websites popped up, along with drawings of various people, "The Vanir are one of the two groups of gods in Asgard. They are associated with fertility, magic, wisdom and the ability to see the future. After the Æsir-Vanir war, they extracted emotions such as anger, jealousy, vengefulness, and battle-lust from themselves and continued their lives as nomads."

"What do you mean 'extracted'?"

"They removed the emotions from their souls and locked them away, according to legend."

"What about 'Freyja'?"

"Freyja, goddess of love, beauty and magic. She is the twin sister of Freyr and daughter of Njord. She keeps a cloak of falcon feathers and a necklace, Brisingamen, both of which have unique qualities.

"She is known for her compassion, patience, and magical abilities. Also, she was the first to teach magic to anyone other than the Vanir."

Stark looked over the projections at the woman who was still sitting on the walkway. The fact that this woman could see the future and use magic wasn't something he believed easily.

"Sir, a Dr. Bruce Banner is here to see you."

Stark glanced at the clock, "He's early. Send him in."

Banner entered the room not two minutes later, "You know, if you wanted me to come here so desperately, you could've just called. The soundproof limousine wasn't necessary."

Stark shrugged, "I thought it would be best."

He glanced at the projections, "What's all this? I thought we were going to experiment on the molecular strength of vibranium."

"I had a slight distraction earlier," Stark motioned to the woman outside.

Banner narrowed his eyes to try to get a better look, "Who is that?"

"Freyja. Apparently she's a goddess from Asgard and she needs to stay here until she leaves."

"Asgard? As in the same place Thor and Loki came from?"

"Yep."

"All she brought was a briefcase?"

Stark looked up, startled, "What briefcase?"

Banner motioned towards the large briefcase leaning against the bar. Stark walked over to the bar, placing the briefcase on the counter.

"What do you think is in here?"

"I don't know."

He began to turn the dials on lock, trying to find the code.

"What are you doing?" Banner exclaimed. "You're going to go through her stuff?"

"She's going to stay here for a while; I deserve to know what she's hiding."

Banner leaned in as Stark continued to try different combinations. The two stared at the briefcase, silently willing it to open.

"If you want to know what is in the briefcase, all you need do is ask."

The two jumped as Freyja walked in, silver mist trailing from her fingers. Banner turned red and looked at the floor as Stark stood up to face her.

"What is your name, doctor?" she asked, looking at Banner.

"Bruce Banner."

She smiled, "It is a delight to meet you, Dr. Banner. My name is Freyja."

He took her hand, shaking it gingerly.

"How did you know he was a scientist?"

"It's written in his aura. Would you like me to open the briefcase?"

"Aura?"

"The field of spiritual and mental energy that surrounds a being," she answered as she turned the dials to the correct combination.

The briefcase clicked open and she pulled out various objects, "Everyone's aura is comprised of multiple levels of colored energy that is based on that person's characteristics. Together, the various colors create a single hue. Auric energy is used when one wields magic."

"There's no such thing as magic," Stark scoffed.

Freyja turned to face him, "I was told that Loki journeyed here to dominate the human race. If that is true, then I know very well that he used magic at some point. He always found joy in sorcery."

"You knew Loki?"

She sighed, "My camaraderie with Loki was…complicated. But I was the one who taught Loki how to use sorcery."

She finished laying out the objects and stepped back. On the bar was a cloak of feathers, a faded green tunic, dark brown leather trousers, what looked like a large slab of crystal rimmed with silver and a strange chain made of a surreal black material.

"You see, nothing out of the ordinary."

Both Stark and Banner raised their eyebrows at the ridiculous comment.

"Your definition of ordinary is very different from ours."

"What would you say to making a deal? You answer a question of mine, and I will answer one of yours."

"Fair enough. What's with the feather blanket?"

A look of utter offense crossed her face, "It is not a blanket, it is a shroud. I received it as a gift from my father. It has the ability to transport one to any destination and can make beings fall in love."

Stark nodded, "Your turn."

"How did Loki travel here and what, specifically, were his actions?"

"That's two questions," Banner pointed out.

She scowled, "They have a single subject."

"Doesn't matter," Stark said.

"What if I allow you to ask me two questions after?"

"That would work," he answered. "Loki came here through the Tesseract. During his brief time here, he killed roughly a hundred people and hurt thousands."

She winced, "Is there a quiet room where I can rest? I have the most awful headache."

"Down that hall, first door on the left," he answered.

She walked down the hall quickly, leaving her belongings on the bar.

"But we're not," –the door shut behind her- "finished."

"What was that about?" Banner asked.

"No clue," he ran his fingers across the feathers of the cape.

He gasped as he felt the sensation of flying away. When he looked around, he was on a grassy plain in the rain. The night was dark, only illuminated by the crescent moon. A girl stood in the center, staring at the sky as lightning flashed.

"Excuse me," he called. "Hello!"

He ran up to the girl, only to recognize a younger Freyja. Tears ran down her face as she looked at the moon with a mixture of pain and defiance.

"Freyja!" a voice called from behind.

A tall, dark figure appeared from behind. Stark couldn't make out his features in the dim light of the moon. He placed a hand on Freyja's shoulder, a gesture that came across as intimate.

"You shouldn't have followed me," she whispered. "The night is cold, and the rain relentless."

"It is not as cold as you say. Besides, you should not be out in this weather," he breathed.

"I wished to be alone."

"What ails you? What has hurt you so?" the voice was full of worry.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, "My father wishes me to marry Odr. But have no love for him. My heart belongs to another man."

The man's teeth clenched, "And your father does not approve of this man?"

"No," she cried, her pitch grew higher as the words left her lips faster. "I do not wish to marry a man I feel no love towards. I do not want to be forced into a marriage. But I do not want to disappoint Father, either. To have to marry a man simply because he is wealthy enough is foolish! I won't! No one can make me!"

"Freyja," the man turned her around, holding her face between his hands. "No one will make you marry a man you do not love. I won't permit it."

She shook her head, "I owe it to my people, but I do not want to do this."

"Then you won't. You know I would support you in any matter."

She nodded.

"Then cease your weeping. It does naught to cry in isolation," he whispered, wiping away her tears. "Now, why does your father not approve of this man?"

Something flashed in her eyes, maybe fear, or regret, "For a reason so folly, it tears me apart."

"Who is this man? Do I know him?"

She hesitated, "Yes."

He inhaled sharply, "How well do I know this man?"

"You have known him your whole life."

"Tell me," he hissed. "Please."

She leaned in, kissing him softly on his lips. A gasp escaped his lips before he pulled her closer. She wrapped her fingers in his hair, winding them tightly as if she was afraid he would disappear if she didn't hold onto him. She slowly pulled back, hesitating, afraid of his rejection.

"I never knew," he breathed.

"Forgive me for my rash actions," she pleaded. "I should not have done so. I hope our friendship can persist, if you do not return my feelings."

He smirked, "I, too, have a woman who holds my heart."

She looked away, ashamed, "Oh. I'm sorry."

He leaned in, kissing her on the lips. He barely brushed her skin before he backed away again.

"I was afraid you would spurn my love if you knew," he explained.

She smiled, her expression bitter-sweet, "My father does not approve."

"Why should he not? Am I not worthy?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer, "You are worthy in my eyes. That is all that matters."

"No one must know," he sighed.

"Then no one will know, especially my father. I will not have him tear us apart."

"I will not let them force you to be something that you are not. I will not lose you to their whims."

She looked up at him hopefully, "Thank you."

He held her close to him, "I will not let you lose yourself. I promise."

And then, all of it was gone. Stark was back in his penthouse, staring at his surroundings in disbelief. Banner was standing across for him, calling out his name, but he didn't hear until the third time.

"Tony!"

He shook his head, "What? Did you see that?"

"What are you talking about?"

Stark stared in surprise, "Nothing. Never mind."

He glanced at the door that Freyja had walked through earlier. He couldn't help wondering what was going on, and who the man in the vision was.


	4. Chapter 3: Dreams & Memories

_"Trust everybody, but cut the cards."_

_ -Finley Peter Dunne_

* * *

_ "Please," ten-year-old Loki pleaded for the umpteenth time._

_ Freyja shook her head, "The process for such a thing is too dangerous. Awakening the dormant part of your mind to magic can be deadly. I'd have to make absolutely certain that you are ready before I try anything."_

_ "Then make sure," he implored. "You don't understand, everyone has something they excel at. Most are skilled warriors, but I seem to lack the strength to be a soldier."_

_ "Loki, it's madness. That is why it has never been done since Eirik."_

_ "Please? At least find out if I'm ready."_

_ She sighed, "Alright. But that is all."_

_ "What must I do?"_

_ "Brace yourself," she answered, placing one hand over his heart and the other on his forehead._

_ He gasped, in both surprise and pain. She knew it was not a pleasant experience, as she had to go through the same process until she was deemed ready to start her training. His skin started to glow dimly as the shade of his aura was revealed. A halo the color of forest green enveloped him, showing her what she already knew about his personality._

_ She let her hands drop to her sides as she found what she was looking for. He shuddered and began to sway as the nausea kicked in. She reached for his shoulders to steady him and watched with concern until he seemed well again._

_ "That was…fascinating," he breathed._

_ "You're ready, mentally."_

_ "When can you preform the ritual? Now?"_

_ "If I were to try now, it would kill you. Right now, you need rest."_

_ "What about tomorrow?"_

_ "Fine. Meet me in the Western Tower at dawn. If you're late, I won't help you."_

_ "Thank you. You won't regret it!"_

* * *

Freyja woke up from the memory, unsure of her surroundings. She began to remember that she was on Earth, not Asgard, and that she was in the home of a man she barely knew. Without looking out the window of her little bedroom, she knew it was just before dawn.

She quietly made her way out of the room and onto the metal walkway high above the streets. Meditation was something the Vanir had practiced since the end of the Aesir-Vanir war. It helped calm and enlighten them, as well as speaking to the spirits that dwelled in the elements.

As she sat in silence, her mind wandered through trifle thoughts to more serious problems. Those mainly consisted of Loki and his more recent endeavors. She had known Loki since she was roughly seven years old and the two were extremely close. She knew him as well as she knew herself, and none of what Thor had said sounded like Loki. Mischief was one thing, his specialty, but he was not the god of evil.

Trouble was something Loki was very good at making, usually bringing in other people as well. He prided himself on his tricks, and, more often than not, she was his collaborator. She couldn't count the number of times Loki's antics had gotten them both a long scolding from Odin.

Odin was another one of her problems. She knew that Thor would sooner or later persuade her into returning to Asgard. On one hand, she didn't mind the idea of returning. Asgard had always felt like home to her, despite her Vanaheim roots. But after the falling out with Odin, even so much as thinking about him made her mind fill with an emotion she couldn't put a name to.

Another problem: the unfamiliar emotions that had plagued her of late. Ever since the loss of Vanaheim, she couldn't think about such problems without waves of nameless feelings clouding her mind. They were foreign to her, and she could not find a way to counter them. Nothing seemed to work.

The more she thought, the more another alien emotion overcame her. The sensation was more than slightly irritating as she couldn't even put a name to it. Perhaps it was impatience, although she wouldn't know if it was. She had never felt impatience. She had only seen how people reacted when they felt it.

Another unnamable emotion replaced the first. She could not describe the feeling, but she knew it had to do with being unable to understand the first. It was incredibly strong, like passion, which she was very familiar with.

Unable to keep herself calm, Freyja decided on speaking with Thor. The easiest way to do this was through astral projection, a personal favorite of Loki's. It involved separating the mind from the body and forming a projection elsewhere. She had taught many people this trick, as it was very convenient for long-distance communication.

Taking a deep breath, she projected her consciousness out into the city. The amount of people in the city surprised Freyja, but did not confuse her. She needed only brush against the psyche of the person to determine that it was not who she was looking for. Each mind had a different tone, as each personality is different, and Freyja was very skilled at picking through which mind was who.

She found Thor after a good ten minutes of searching through what seemed as a labyrinth of intellects. Unsurprisingly, she came across him sleeping in a large building, lying next to a woman she didn't recognize. Thor was almost always with a woman, it didn't matter where she was from. He wasn't picky.

Concentrating carefully, she formed an exact copy of her Asgardian form in the room. Taking a few minutes to examine the scene, Freyja walked around a little. The room was completely different than the one Stark had given her. The walls were off-white with blue trim, the floor was tan carpet that looked as if it was in the need of a good cleaning.

Thor had changed extensively, physically and mentally, since she had last seen him. His golden hair was slightly longer than she remembered, his face had worry lines etched into his forehead, and he had grown taller. But the most shocking change was in his personality. All her life, Thor had been arrogant, stubborn, and vain. She wondered what else had changed.

She delved into his mind, just to satiate her curiousity, feeling the familiar dull warmth his mind carried. She wandered idly for a while, shifting through the contours of his mentality. No matter how many Asgardians she taught, she would never get over the curiosity of their minds. Loki had once told her that the minds of Vanir were confusing and always moving, like smoke in the wind. If that was true, then Asgardian minds were similar to the insides of beehives, everything was organized and separate. Perhaps it was this, Freyja thought, which made them so connected to the corporeal world.

_"_Thor," she called.

Something stirred in his consciousness, but he remained asleep.

"Thor."

She patiently nudged away the memories and dreams that tried desperately to invade her own mind as she left his consciousness and called once more.

"Thor!"

This time he awoke, flustered by her voice.

"Freyja? Is something wrong? Do you need my aid?" he asked, the fog of sleep confusing him.

"Calm yourself, I am not in need of your aid. I wish to speak with you."

"Now?" he glanced at the woman who lay asleep.

"I suppose it can wait until after you're finished with your…mistress."

Thor's aura reverberated with embarrassment, "She is not my mistress. This is Jane Foster, the woman I told you of yesterday. The only room available was this one. I would have slept in the chair, but…"

"She allowed you to sleep in the bed," Freyja's projection nodded in understanding. "Either way, if this is not a good time, I can wait until later."

He nodded, "I shall meet you at noon. Until then, I shall continue my sleep. I am not used to waking this early."

She laughed, "It never killed your brother."

Thor grumbled something unrecognizable, and lay back down. She left him to his rest and returned to her own body. It was then that she got an idea. Concentrating again, she projected her mind through space until she found Asgard.

The only question left was where would they keep a prince prisoner? She checked his room first, only to find it empty. Certainly he was in the castle, she couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

She searched through every room with her mind, except the royal chambers as she didn't want to run across Odin. As usual, most of the rooms in the palace where empty. But she found that her room had been left untouched in her absence, much to her surprise.

Unable to find who she was looking for, she searched the mind of the nearest guard. Like most Asgardians, he was unaware of her presence, and she had no problem filtering through his memories in search of a hint.

Before the Aesir-Vanir War, none of the Asgardians had been able to sense the presence of another in their head, making them easy prey to psychological attacks. Then, it was possible to bend and manipulate the mind in any way pleased. It terrified the Asgardians that their neighbors could enter their minds, control them, and even rend them apart afterward. That fear was the start of the war.

Since the treaty, and the extraction of corruptive emotions, the Vanir very rarely entered the mind of another. It was mostly only practiced during magic to teach self-protection, any other usage was considered rude.

Freyja justified her guilt with the fact that she wasn't hurting the guard, simply searching for information. She didn't find anything that directly had anything to do with her search, but was pointed in the direction of another guard who might.

Unfortunately, this one had been trained. As soon as she came in contact with his consciousness, panic swirled in his mind. Then came the pain as he tried desperately to force her out. Knowing she couldn't just let him kick her out and tell anyone about the anomaly, she fought back. Guiltily using all her strength, she overpowered his defenses and took control.

His struggles still came, but more feebly. She carefully rifled through his mind, making him fall asleep against the wall. She found the memory of him sensing her presence and destroyed it. It was a painless procedure, similar to pulling an extra, useless string out of a tapestry that wasn't truly woven into the pattern. She then searched through for something useful, and found it.

She immediately left and descended into the Vault that was deep in the earth beneath the castle. It was there she found the newly built personal prison that had been added shortly before Loki's return.

Loki was asleep in his cell, dreaming peacefully despite his discomfort. A metal gag was locked around his mouth and his hands were chained loosely. But these would not stop a sorcerer, she knew. Something else was there to insure he would not use magic. She scanned for any dangers.

She recoiled when she came across the Tesseract in a strange container. Its power was being channeled through the walls, being used to drain his energy. The thought horrified her, as she knew exactly what was happening to the power. She was going to have to tell Thor about the problem, in order to fix it. The Asgardians were simply siphoning more power into it. She silently cursed their ignorance.

Without a second's hesitation, she skirted the edges of his mind, afraid of waking him. He would certainly recognize her presence. Once, when times were simpler, she tried to surprise him by entering his mind while he slept. He had immediately woke up, but did not realize that it was her, and mistook her for a threat. The result had been a very painful, on both sides, mental struggle that went on for hours as he refused to relinquish his hold on her mind.

His mind was relatively calm, dwelling in dreams that surprised her. In his mind, he was in the middle of one of Odin's feasts. Everyone was there: Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, Freyr, herself, Thor, and many of her old friends. He was speaking to her, making her laugh. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but her heart yearned for the times when this was a possibility.

She thought about waking him, speaking to him, but she couldn't muster the courage. She had run away, had betrayed him in a way, led him to believe she was dead. Instead, she just examined him, taking in the details that had changed as she had with Thor.

His ebony hair was longer than usual, and uncharacteristically unruly. He was taller than she remembered, his face slightly longer. But his chiseled features, his razorblade-narrow cheekbones, thin eyebrows and soft lips, an odd distinction from his otherwise angular and pronounced features, were the same. There was, however, a scar across the edge of one of his eyebrow that was new. His slender fingers were lying flat against the metal slab that was partially embedded into the wall, a makeshift bed.

She retracted her presence, unable to force him awake, until she was back on Stark Tower. She fiddled with emerald ring, as she did when she worried about anything. Finally admitting that she didn't have the courage to go back and actually wake Loki, she entered the penthouse to look for breakfast.

Banner was asleep on the couch, much to her surprise. Did he not have a home? She wondered if it was custom to have the guest sleep on a couch on Earth. The gesture seemed strange.

She walked quietly towards the bar, where her possessions still lay, in hope that Stark had something to eat. As she reached for the handle of the fridge, wondering what it was, she was startled by a voice.

"Can I help you with anything, Miss Freyja?"

She jumped in surprise, looking for who was speaking to her. Unable to see anyone, she mentally searched the rooms around her, only to find no one else besides Stark and Banner.

A look of confusion crossed her face, and she reached for the handle again.

"There is nothing in the fridge except tequila and a carton of expired milk," the voice said again.

"Who's there?" she asked uncertainly.

"Jarvis, ma'am."

She looked around again, "Where are you?"

She heard Stark laughing from behind her, "I see you've met Jarvis."

"To be honest, I have not met him yet."

He walked towards the bar, "You won't find him. Jarvis is a computer program I created to help me with anything I need."

"A what?" she asked.

"A computer program."

"I do not know what a computer is, much less a program."

"You were very interested in mine yesterday."

"Would you say it is similar to this," she picked up the slab of diamond and tapped it twice.

The surface of the diamond lit up like the screen of a TV. Freyja tapped a few keys on the screen and the image projected itself in the air.

"Can I see that for a second?"

"Of course," she answered, handing him the diamond.

He examined it, peering at every angle to try and find something new. He handed it back to her.

"Does it come in English?"

She laughed, "I'm not sure. Let me check."

He watched as she slid her finger across the surface, bringing up a new screenshot. She searched through the strange curving glyphs for what she was looking for.

"Here it is," she said happily, handing it to him again.

He searched through it again and whistled, "Do you have any more of these? If I could take one apart and manufacture them, I could rub it in Mac's face. It would teach them to challenge me to build something better than they did."

She shook her head, "I don't think there are any left. I'm afraid you will have to create something different to spite your friend."

"Not a friend, a company," he corrected, searching through more and more. "What is this?"

He showed her the screen which now held a picture of her and Loki when they were nine. The two were sitting in the water of a fountain, laughing. Freyja turned red and took back the tablet.

"An old memory," she answered. "Enough of this, though. You wouldn't happen to have anything to eat, would you?"

He shrugged, "Not here. I could take you out to breakfast."

"Alright," she consented, walking over to Banner.

"What are you doing?" Stark asked.

She stopped, "Waking up Dr. Banner to ask if he would like to accompany us."

"He's fine," he said.

She looked confused, "You wish to leave him here?"

"He's tired, let him sleep."

She took one look at Stark and shook Banner's shoulder gently, "Dr. Banner."

Banner woke up with a start, glasses askew, "What? Who? Where am I?"

"In Tony Stark's Tower," she said softly. "We are going to breakfast, would you care to join us?"

"Breakfast? Sure. Sounds good," he answered. "Where're we going?"

"I was thinking shawarma," Stark spoke up.

"What is shawarma?" she asked.

"It's roasted meat that's sliced and put in a sandwich," Banner explained. "Tony has an obsession with the stuff since last year."

She looked at Stark, "Is there anything without meat?"

"You're a vegetarian?"

"All Vanir are, or were," she added sadly.

"What do you mean 'were'?" Banner asked.

She turned back to him, "Have you ever lost anyone you loved, Dr. Banner?"

"Yes. And you can call me Bruce."

She nodded, "Then you will understand what I meant. But we should not linger on the unfortunate, let us depart."

She walked into the elevator after Stark, with Bruce following behind.

"Tony said you could use magic," Bruce said as they rode down. "Is that true?"

"Humans have called it magic, Asgardians call it science; but in truth, it is simply being able to use the full capacity of your mind and soul," she answered.

"What do you mean?"

She smiled, enjoying the return to teaching, "The Vanir are distinctly different from the many beings that inhabit the Nine Realms. We are the only species born with the natural ability to use the entire capabilities of the brain. This allows us to channel our auras to our whim, creating and manipulating the setting around us. I have developed a method that can unlock the dormant section of the mind of other beings so that they too can reach their full potential.

"The prospect confuses many, leading them to call it by another name. When I was last on Earth, the humans were awed by the capabilities of my students, calling us sorcerers. However, Asgardians believe magic is a branch of science, which is true in a way."

Bruce nodded, but was still confused. The elevator stopped and the trio walked out where Stark's limousine sat on the curb. They all stepped in and Stark gave the driver the directions.

"You said something about students earlier," Bruce noted. "Are you saying you taught magic?"

"Yes. I can name every one of them, choice Asgardians, elves, and humans who seemed prospective. I do miss teaching…"

"You were the first to teach magic?"

"Do you recall how I said part of the brain of other species is dormant? I was not the first to try to awaken it, but I was the first to be successful."

"What happened?"

She hesitated, "It was only tested twice before my own success. The first went mad and died within a day, the second was mortally wounded, we turned him into an oak tree."

Stark sat up, "You turned a man into a tree?"

"That was far before my time. He still stands on the mountainside, or he did when I left. I can't imagine anything would harm him."

"You say that as if he were alive."

She raised an eyebrow, "Of course Eirik is alive, that was the point of transforming him into a tree. Interestingly, he is as wise of a Vanir now. If you are kind, he will tell you one of the world's secrets. I have visited him many times."

"Eirik, the tree?" Stark looked as if he were about to laugh.

"If you doubt my words, I could show you," she said, offering her hand.

Stark scoffed and she turned towards Bruce, "The same offer stands to you."

He looked at her in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I can allow you see my memories of him, if you wish. Since your mind is not awakened, I can only show you through touch."

He hesitantly took her hand, and was no longer in the car. Bruce was on a mountainside, watching as a younger Freyja, about nineteen, walked up a path towards an immense oak tree. He ran after her to see what she would show him.

When she reached the roots of the tree, she sat down, crossing her legs. Slowly, she placed the palm of the trunk and said something in a flowing language that sounded like music. As he heard it, it sounded foreign, but it reverberated in his mind as English.

"Great Tree, may I sit with you?"

"_You may, Princess of the Vanir. I have no disdain towards you or your people,_" a deep, slow voice said.

"Is it true that you hold wisdoms that would make the winds fly away in shock?" she whispered.

"_It is. I have known these acumens since I stood on this mountain._"

"If I told you a story of my own, a secret that few know, will you give me insight?"

"_Why do you wish to tell me this secret?"_

She sighed, "I am in need of someone whom I can confide in."

"_Very well, princess. What is this secret that burdens you._"

Bruce found himself back in the present as Freyja pulled away her hand. She smiled as he thought about what he had seen.

"I am willing to share stories, if you are as well," she said.

"You should probably know what you're dealing with," he said guiltily.

Once more, Freyja looked confused, "I don't understand."

He took of his glasses, rubbing his temples, "I'm not exactly the same as Tony."

"Bruce-" Tony warned.

"She deserves to know," he said.

"If it is easier for you to show me than to speak, then by all means," she held out her hand again. "But I will not enter your mind without your permission."

"You can enter peoples' minds?"

She nodded, getting more and more uncomfortable with Tony's questions.

"Can you force those people to do what you want?"

"It is rude to enter a man's mind without his permission," she said forcefully.

"So you can," he pointed out. "What else can you do?"

"Things you cannot possibly imagine."

"Such as…?"

She looked at pointedly, "If I give you one example, will you be satisfied?"

"For now," he answered.

"I can rend his mind to pieces, leaving a man dead, insane or no better than a vegetable."

Tony raised his eyebrows, "Interesting."

"But I have only done this once, and not by choice," she turned to Bruce, her voice softening. "Will you allow me to see what you wish to say?"

"I don't know how."

"Focus on the memories you wish to show me, and I will see nothing else," she held out her hand once more.

He took her hand as if he truly didn't want to, and instantly she saw flashes of memories.

"Your mind is erratic, I need you to calm yourself in order to see what you wish me to," she said.

He tried to calm down, but couldn't seem to. Suddenly, he felt a calm flow over him, like the peaceful, rhythmic pattern of waves on the shore.

She saw the line of memories slower now, more understandable. She saw explosions, gunshots, and then Bruce. But then, it became that he wasn't Bruce, but a large, green monster. It tore apart trucks, buildings, killed and hurt people. Then there was a strange machine over him. It shone a green light into his eyes.

And she was back in the car, watching Bruce with new eyes.

"This…side of you, it comes out when you are angry?"

"Angry, surprised, startled, you name it. I haven't really found a way to control it."

The car stopped and the three got out.

"I could help you with this," she said.

He laughed, "We tried to cure it. No dice."

She shook her head, "You misunderstand my words. I do not wish to cure this, for it can be helpful if harnessed correctly. A horse may not wish to be tamed, but if shown kindness, it will help you in need."

He laughed as they walked through the door, "This isn't something you can control."

"I think I could help you, Bruce. I will not force my aid on you, but I would appreciate it if you would think about my offer. A life on the run is no life, believe me."

Stark looked at her, "You lived on the run?"

She flinched, "I am a nomad by heart, the same can be said for all of the Vanir, but recently, I have simply been running."

"From what?"

She looked at him without any emotion, "Pain."

"Okay," Stark said to the guy behind the front. "I need two number one combos and one veggie wrap."

He looked at Freyja, "Do you want something to drink."

"Water will suffice."

She sat down with Banner at a small table that sat four. He pulled out a cell phone and quickly sent a text.

"Do you mind if I invite someone?"

"Not at all," she answered. "Who?"

"Just wait, I think you'll like him."

Stark came back to the table holding two trays of food. He slid the wrap to Freyja, pushed a tray towards Bruce, and began to unwrap his shawarma from the tin foil. Bruce's phone rang as soon as he touched his fork.

"Who're you texting?" Tony asked, peering over to see.

"Steve, he says he's bringing Natasha and Clint."

"No. That's out of the question. I will not have Captain Spandex ruining my breakfast."

"Too late, he's coming," Bruce stopped and peered at the screen. "What's 'h-o-b-r-t' stand for?"

Tony looked at the phone, "Your guess is as good as mine. I'm surprised he's even figured out how to use that phone."

Freyja carefully pulled off the tin foil, examining it as if it were a bug under a microscope.

"Is something wrong?" Stark asked, looking at her questioningly.

"No," she answered. "I've simply never seen such a flimsy protectant."

She looked down at the pita bread, not knowing what it could be. Earth seemed to become stranger and stranger the more time she spent in it. For the first time, she wondered if it was possible that something could poison her here. She checked the strands of the future, just to be safe.

When one of her students had asked her what the future looked like, she had replied that it was similar to embroidery. And, in a way, it was. The future was always changing, always different within each strand that together formed different scenarios. In order to tell which one would happen, the Vanir depended on small details that were unique to each one. These could range from what color tunic a person may wear that day down to whether they happened across a stray coin in the road.

Freyja didn't see anything out of the ordinary, so she hesitantly took a bite. Satisfied that it was edible, she began to think about whom Steve, Natasha and Clint were. She remembered that all three were part of 'the Avengers', but she still wondered what they were like. Bruce was kind enough, but Tony was complex and sometimes downright rude.

She didn't have to wait long for her answer, though. Not five minutes later, in walked a woman with red hair, and a tall man with blonde hair and the posture of a warrior.

But it was the last man to walk in who captured her attention. He was completely unfamiliar. A wide nose, scowling mouth, light brown hair cropped short, and a prominent brow. But it was his eyes that caught her attention. The strange eyes that seemed to be a mix of blue, green and gray; eyes that contained cold apathy and hunger for bloodshed. Eyes that she had seen long ago, and haunted her in a nightmare of a memory. Eyes of an enemy.


	5. Chapter 4: Honesty of Lies

_"'So you're always honest,' I said._

_'Aren't you?'_

_'No,' I told him. 'I'm not.'_

_'Well, that's good to know, I guess.'_

_'I'm not saying I'm a liar,' I told him._

_He raised his eyebrows._

_'That's not how I meant it, anyways.'_

_'How'd you mean it, then?'_

_'I just...I don't always say what I feel.'_

_'Why not?'_

_'Because the truth sometimes hurts,' I said._

_'Yeah,' he said. 'So do lies, though.'"_

-"Just Listen" by Sarah Dessen

* * *

Freyja kept as still as possible, fighting every instinct to run from this man with the loathsome eyes. _This is not the same man_, she thought to herself, _he simply has similar eyes_. But they weren't simply similar, they were uncannily the same. The same eyes that she had thought beautiful before the man with them revealed himself as a monster. But this was not the same man.

"Freyja, this is Captain Steve Rogers," Bruce motioned towards the blonde man in a T-shirt and jeans.

He took her hand carefully, unlike the others, "Pleased to meet you, Freyja."

She smiled, "The pleasure is mine, Captain."

"Natasha Romanoff," Bruce continued as the red-haired woman gliding forward. "And Clint Barton."

She shook the hand of the man with the loathsome eyes, "It is a pleasure to meet you formally. I believe you shot me out of the air?"

He smiled, which she returned by force, "Sorry. I was following orders."

She nodded, "I would hope so, I was beginning to think there was no such thing as manners on this planet."

Tony, Bruce and Steve laughed, both Natasha and Clint seemed slightly peeved. They dragged another table over and sat down. Steve sat down next to her, at the head of the table, giving her a chance to speak with him.

"Captain," she started, putting down her wrap, "you are not from here, are you?"

He shook his head, "Not exactly. And you can call me Steve."

"Where are you from, if I may be so bold?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"And if I told you I came from a similar place as Thor?"

He raised his eyebrows, "You came from Asgard?"

"I was born in Vanaheim, but I spent most of my adolescence in Asgard."

"So do you have a title?"

"A few. I am first and foremost Princess of Vanaheim, but I have been called many names. The last time I journeyed here, your people named me the goddess of love, magic, and beauty. I believe a group of have called me the Teacher of Mystiques, as well. But that was when the people named me Athena."

"You were Athena?" Bruce asked.

She nodded, "It was one of my many names here."

"But Athena was the goddess of battle strategy, and you're a pacifist," Tony pointed out.

"Asgard was home of many battle strategists and warriors. I may be against violence, but I studied strategy out of pure interest. There were games we played that required such knowledge."

"So you've been here more than once?" Bruce asked.

"Who is she?" Natasha asked.

"My name is Princess Freyja of Vanaheim. I've spent time in every world, mostly Asgard. I came here after the destruction of my home, but spend my time in various places as it hurts to watch each kingdom fall. I left roughly a few hundred years ago but returned out of nostalgia," Freyja answered, speaking as if she was reading off a list.

"So you've been here before," Bruce repeated.

"Yes. I have traveled across the globe, but for some reason I cannot fathom, humans never seem to give me the same name," she answered. "I have been called Athena, Juno, Perenelle, Druantia, Alys, Isis, Alaghom Noam, Kwahn, and many others. Inconsistency seems to be natural for you, in more forms than just names. No matter how many times I try to enlighten your race, you seem to forget everything I've said within a century. I cannot recall how many times I informed people the Earth was round before Chris made his wager against me."

"Chris?" Steve asked. "As in Christopher Columbus?"

She nodded, "I will never forget his face when he lost. He was surprised that a woman knew better than he. I still have my winnings."

She pulled a flawless, uncut ruby the size of a ping pong ball on a silver chain out of her pocket and placed it on the table, "He was not content to part with it, apparently a gift from a queen, but a wager is a wager."

"Do you always carry jewels in your pockets?" Tony asked.

"Of course," she answered, replacing it in her pocket. "Gemstones have the ability to hold reserves of energy. A wise sorcerer always keeps gems on his person in case he needs sustenance."

"Do you really expect us to believe that," Natasha scoffed.

Freyja stared at her as if the question was beyond ridiculous, "Of course. I may not speak the truth at all times, but I never lie."

They stared at her as if she were crazy, making her stop short. Did they really not understand what she said? But then again, many people had not understood certain things she said. Thor had said it was because of the half-truths, but the confusion was unthinkable to her.

"And that means?"

She sighed, "We, the Vanir, cannot lie. It is a…quirk, as you would say. But we do not speak the full truth when we do not feel the need."

"No wonder Fury has been irritated lately," Clint laughed. "He said you hadn't been cooperative. What was it you refused to tell him?"

Freyja shifted in her chair, "Nothing your race has a necessity to know."

Stark grinned, "You really do know how to play with words. You never say anything that might give something away."

She smiled over her water bottle, "The secret is millennia of practice."

"Is that why Loki is so good at lying?"

She choked on the sip she had just taken, not expecting Natasha to speak up.

"Thor told Fury that you taught Loki how to use magic and how to lie."

She covered her discomfort with laughing, silently cursing Thor, "I may have taught Loki magic and the more complex way of speaking but believe you me, he was very aware of how to lie before I met him."

"So it was your fault that Loki tried to take over Earth?"

"The logic you use is insensible."

"You gave him the ability to do what he did. You put power in the hands of a monster. His actions stemmed from yours. You're responsible-"

"DO YOU THINK I AM NOT AWARE OF THIS?" Freyja yelled, knocking her chair to the floor as she stood up abruptly. "DO YOU SINCERELY BELIEVE I DO NOT DWELL OVER THIS IN EVERY WAKING MOMENT? YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I HAVE FELT NOR WHAT I FEEL AT THIS MOMENT! I HAVE EXPERIENCED THINGS, HUMAN, THAT WOULD MAKE YOU CRINGE! SO DO NOT DARE DELUDE YOURSELF TO THINK YOU COULD UNDERSTAND MY ACTIONS! YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHAT I HAVE UNDERGONE!"

She stopped short, her face changing from anger to surprise as she realized what she had just done. Everyone at the table stared at her, taken back by her sudden outburst.

She cursed in the language of her people and grabbed the rest of her meal, "Excuse me, I am in need of some air."

She rushed out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind her and leaving the 'Avengers' behind. She was appalled at the strength of the unnamable emotion that had broken her restraint and patience. Her hand self-consciously gripped her shoulder where strange black marks were inked into her skin, a constant reminder that didn't seem to work.

As she walked down the crowded streets, Freyja looked around at what seemed like devastation to her. Her times on Earth had been not too long before, by her standards, and yet so much had changed. What was the last thing to happen before she left? The Bubonic Plague in Constantinople? The fire at the Globe Theater in London? No, it was the Great Famine in Ireland, wasn't it?

She couldn't tell. Time spent on Midgard was distorted alongside the time of Asgard and the other nine realms. Her eternal life of running didn't help, either. But she had to keep running to keep herself alive, to keep others from dying. Her thoughts drifted to the marks on her shoulder again. How many marks, lives, were inked into her skin? She had lost count when the number passed two hundred. It sickened her, to think that the ever-growing number was her fault.

Not for the first time, she wondered whether she should end it all. But, then again, the enemy she faced would simply continue to ravage through the worlds until he found what he looked for. What she kept from him.

Too disgusted to think about finishing her breakfast, she gave the remaining half of her wrap to a sorry-looking man who looked as if he hadn't lived in anything besides a cardboard box for a good year.

"God bless you," he slurred through broken teeth.

She smiled and continued walking, now thinking about her meeting with Thor in what she guessed would be a few hours. All she had to do was make her way through the city back to Stark Tower.

Freyja turned in a circle, trying to guess which direction was the right one. Realizing that she was utterly lost, she said a very unladylike word in her own language that would've made her father blow a fuse. Fueled by determination, she straightened up and walked briskly in one direction, fervently hoping she was going the right way.

Thor paced back and forth in Tony's penthouse, worrying about Freyja. It was an hour after noon and she hadn't turned up yet. A million different scenarios rushed through his head, each one worse than the next. He hoped she was alright.

"What were you thinking, allowing her to leave on her own?" he growled at Tony. "She does not know this city. What if something has happened to her?"

"I didn't let her, she stormed out without a second glance," he protested. "Besides, why do you care about her so much?"

Something flashed in his eyes, "She means much to a man I know."

Tony stood up from the couch, "Ah, yes. Her 'lover'. Who is this mysterious man no one will talk about?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Was he someone she shouldn't have been with? A thief? A servant? Give me a hint."

"I would not tell you anything even if I wanted to. I will not betray Freyja's trust."

"She'll never know," he laughed. "I won't tell."

Before Thor could reply, Freyja walked in looking relieved. She slumped against the door and sighed.

"At last. I was beginning to believe I would never find it," she laughed.

"Where have you been?" Thor exclaimed.

"Peace, Thor," she said softly. "I simply needed some quiet and I got lost in my search."

"Do you have any idea how worried I have been? There are more dangers in this world than you can count in your lifetime."

"Oh, Thor, I was not aware that you cared for me so," she teased half-heartedly, something she hadn't done in millennia. "I'm touched."

He shook his head at her, "You wished to speak to me urgently?"

She nodded, "The chamber I have been given are just down this hall. I trust we shall have no problem speaking privately there."

She walked off, followed by Thor who continued the conversation in their heads.

_I believe you are mistaken, Freyja. I doubt Stark will leave us alone. He is too curious for his own good._

_Do you truly believe I am not going to use a silence charm? Honestly, Thor, sometimes you lead me to think your common sense does not exist._

She closed the door behind Thor as he walked around her, muttering a small incantation in her own language. Silver mist trailed from her fingers as she locked the door. Thor sat down in a chair next to a desk, making it look twice as small.

"After I left you alone this morning," she started, "I found Loki in the Vault."

He looked away, "Why?"

She sighed, "I know not what drove me. I have missed Loki, missed _him_, missed you, Sif, I miss everything."

"Why don't you come back to Asgard, Freyja?"

She flinched, "I cannot."

"Stark informed me that you are running from something."

She grit her teeth, hand flying to the marks again, "I am running."

"What are you running from? What hunts you?"

She hesitated, "An enemy who wants what I cannot give him, what I refuse to give him. I cannot fight him, no one can. So I run and keep him chasing me."

Thor narrowed his eyes at her hand, just barely seeing the edge of one of the marks, "What are those?"

She pulled the neckline of her shirt up more, trying to cover them, "Nothing that means anything to you."

"What are they, Freyja?"

"They are a story too long to repeat. I did not ask you here to speak of trivial things. I need to speak to you about the Tesseract."

"What of it?"

"You have manipulated it to absorb Loki's strength. If you continue to do this, the consequences will be severe. You do not understand its abilities, but your ignorance of it will keep you safe. I need you to return it to me."

He shook his head, "It is impossible. My father has given strict orders against anyone so much as touching it."

"You don't understand. The Tesseract attracts too much unwanted attention, dangerous attention. Simply its presence in Asgard shall bring destruction down on your people. Just as it did mine."

He looked up, surprised, "The army that destroyed Vanaheim was after the Tesseract?"

She scowled, cursing her recklessness, "I was appointed its guardian, but the power drew too much attention to me. To protect it, I hid it away in an underground tomb. But the humans apparently found it." –Something hard flashed in her eyes, giving her face a haunted look- "Thor, if the Nine Realms are to survive, the Tesseract must be returned to me."

"What is the Tesseract? What was its purpose?"

"It was a mistake, made to hold something that should have stayed where it belonged."

He leaned forward, "What does it hold?"

"I cannot tell you. Ignorance is safety."

He then realized what she meant, why she was running, "You do not wish to return to Asgard because you do not want harm to befall him."

A tear rolled down her cheek, "If I could assure his safety, I would return. The only aspect that kept me away was that I knew I would draw my follower with me. I'm going mad, Thor. The more I stay in one land, the more likely I am to bring death to the people around me. I could not live with myself if he were hurt by the collateral damage I leave in my wake. If I lose him to death, I will die as well."

"We can protect you, Freyja. Whatever enemy you face, he cannot withstand the might of Odin and myself."

She laughed nervously, "The whole of Vanaheim could not withstand his wrath."

"That is because the Vanir were not warriors."

She shook her head, "Return the Tesseract to me, Thor. I will keep the monster distracted, and he shall never hurt anyone."

"You cannot spend eternity running."

"I have done so for a millennium and a century. I can continue and no one shall suffer."

"You will suffer."

"This is my burden to bear," she fiddled with her emerald ring, thinking of her father and the Norns. "It always has been, always will be."

Thor gestured to the ring, "He gave it to you, did he not?"

She nodded, "He gave it to me before I left. A charm for good luck, he told me."

"We don't know what to do. You have always been the only one to keep him happy, swayed his mind from his bitterness-"

"The reason for that is the connection we share."

"He needs you."

When she looked back up at him the anger had left her face, replaced by pain so strong he flinched.

"If I could return, I would. I would give my life to see him one last time. But I cannot, not if I want to keep him alive."

She was silent, and he realized just how strong of a mask she had put up. She had built a fortress to hide behind, to try to keep herself strong. He wondered if he could do what she was doing. Could he force himself to let go of everything he cared about to live on the run, to protect the Nine Realms? What could possibly be held in the Tesseract that was so dangerous?

"I chose to be happy once, to betray the wishes of my people and seek out my own whims. This is my punishment for my selfishness. An eternity spent away from what I love."

"Freyja," Thor stood up, reaching for her hand.

She cringed away from his touch, "Please, leave me be."

He unlocked the door and turned to look back, hand on the door, "People are not punished for seeking out happiness. It is not selfish to wish for joy in life. You deserve to be happy."

She just stared at the wall, a blank expression on her face. He took one last glance at the broken princess that sat on the edge of the bed before leaving. Tony was now standing behind the bar, mixing a drink.

"What did she want?" he asked.

"It does not matter," Thor answered, getting into the elevator.

Tony continued to mix his drink, "Jarvis, what was it that they were talking about in there?"

"I'm not sure, sir" the computer answered. "I couldn't hear a word."

"Hmm…"

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a door swinging open. He watched as Freyja, red-eyed and miserable, shuffled out.

He raised his eyebrows, "You look like shit."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you are speaking of but it is not a compliment, I take it?"

"You need a drink," he continued.

She looked nervously at him, "I do not think that is a good idea, Vanir have a low tolerance for alcohol."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure it's not strong."

He poured a bright green mixture into a plastic shot glass and handed it to her. She looked at it as if he had given her a frog.

"It's not going to bite, you know. Just don't let it hit the back of your throat."

"Forgive me, I was just surprised by the color," without a second thought, she downed it in a gulp.

She blinked in surprise a couple times, "That…was not what I was expecting."

He refilled her glass and grinned, "Not used to drinks like this?"

"In Asgard, liquor is always some shade of amber, and never sweet."

"Shame. Here's something you might like," he pulled out a small bottle. "I've been saving this one, supposed to hit you hard."

She laughed, "That does not make sense no matter how you look at it."

"Oh well," he said as he poured more in her glass, knowing that soon she would become more talkative.

And then he would have answers.


	6. Chapter 5: Elusive Truths

_"I'd rather regret the things I've done than regret the things I haven't done."_

_ -Lucille Ball_

* * *

Within a matter of minutes, Freyja's mind was clouded and she could no longer think quite right. Her thoughts were jumbled and incoherent, but she couldn't find it in herself to mind. There was something relaxing in the fog, it allowed her troubles to float away and be forgotten for the moment.

Next to her, Tony Stark sat on a stool, drinking and steadily refilling her cup. He made sure to stay sober and still drink to keep her from wondering why. He didn't need to, she was too distracted to pay attention. He poured her another round of Schnapps.

"How peculiar for a drink to taste of fruit as this one does," she noted, taking a swig.

He laughed, "I have a drink for every flavor you can think of. Name one and I'll point you to the bottle."

She looked at him in disbelief, "Peppermint?"

He stood up and brought a bottle from the shelves, "Here you have it."

"I don't believe you."

"Taste it yourself," he said, filling her glass.

She took a tentative sip, smiling at the taste, "I love peppermint. It reminds me of Asgard."

Tony sat up, "Why's that."

"I used to sneak out of the palace at night with a friend on full moons. We would drink peppermint tea and watch the stars."

"A friend?"

"Well, we were friends in the beginning. Our relationship grew stronger with time," she sighed. "But my father did not approve, and we were forced to continue our affair in secrecy."

"Affair?" he asked, becoming steadily more interested. "One of you was married?"

She choked on her drink, "By the Wise One, what would lead you to assume such a preposterous idea? Neither of us was married, Thor told me he has not chosen a wife yet. Although, come to think of it, I was forced to at least meet the suitors my father picked."

"Why didn't your father approve of this guy?"

"Because of what realm he hailed from. The Vanir do not marry his kind because we have been at odds since the beginning of time."

"Where was he from?" he asked, pouring more into her glass.

"It matters not. He is not the same as his brethren. While they are violent, volatile creatures with a hunger for battle and bloodshed, he is thoughtful, and caring, and witty. No matter how much I found out about him, he could always surprise me. He is a diamond in the rough, that man."

"So he wasn't good enough for your father, in status?"

"No, no. He is of noble birth, if not noble blood," she smiled as if she were a million miles away.

"Who was this guy? You really seem to hang on him."

She giggled shakily, "You think yourself wise, Tony. I admit, you are knowledgeable, but you lack in wisdom. I would not tell you his name if I lay on my deathbed. Take no offense, but I trust you as far as I can throw you."

"You can trust me."

"The only people who know of our relationship are myself, he and Thor."

"Thor? Why does Thor know? How did he find out?"

"He happened across us one afternoon," she slurred. "He actually wasn't as surprised as I had expected."

She examined Tony as if she couldn't quite see him, "This reminds me of a game we played in Vanaheim. I will not give you the name of the man, but I will allow you to guess and ask questions. Let us see if you are more perceptive than I am elusive."

"So I get to guess the name of this guy by asking you questions. But will you lie?"

"I cannot lie, but I will not answer with complete honesty, either. I tire of having him nameless. Let us call him 'Leif'."

Tony raised an eyebrow, "Leif? That's his name?"

"Of course not," she laughed. "Leif means 'beloved one'. But you may call him that until you guess his true identity."

"Alright. Did Thor know 'Leif' well?"

"They knew each other very well, but were not as close as they should have been."

He nodded, trying to figure out what she meant by 'should have been', "What do you mean? Were they cousins or something?"

"They are not related by blood."

"Okay. He's still alive, right?"

"Of course."

"What does he look like?"

"He has bright eyes and facial features that put shame to your Michelangelo's works."

"That doesn't tell me anything," he protested, pouring more into the plastic glass.

She raised the cup to her lips, "In truth, it tells you more than you would imagine."

"You said he wasn't married, but were you his only girlfriend?"

"That word baffles me; it does fit the use you give it. But, yes, I was his only lover."

"And Leif was your only boyfriend?"

"Of course, in the sense you use the word. If you use it in the context more familiar to me, then no for I have had many boy friends."

"What about his personality? What was he like?"

"He was smart, thoughtful, loyal, caring, and a bit temperamental at times, but he calmed easily. I just hope time has not changed him too much…"

"So he's different now?"

"From the little I have seen in Thor's memories. Time changes everyone. Do you have a guess for me?"

He looked baffled, "Are you kidding? I don't know any of the people you've got living in that other place of yours. How am I supposed to guess who this guy is if all I know is based on your ridiculous answers?"

She yawned, "You are supposed to guess because, knowing Thor, he has already given you his name unintentionally."

"So I've heard his name before?"

"Yes."

He scrambled for any name or unusual word Thor might have said around him, but nothing came to mind.

"Can't you give me another hint?"

"Alright…He only shows his true self, his true emotions, to me. To everyone else, he is a lock to which only I have the key."

"How is that supposed to be helpful?"

"You are an intelligent man, Tony. You should be able to find the answer to such a simple riddle."

She got off of the chair shakily, "Tell me when you have an answer."

"Hold on! I need a better hint than that. You can't-" he reached out to grab her shoulder but she crashed to the floor at his touch.

He sighed irritably; this had not been what he was hoping for. Sure, she had gotten drunk within a few drinks, but she hadn't been any more unguarded than she was while sober. And now he had to drag her to her room.

She was lighter than he had expected, he guessed she couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds. Carrying her to the room had been easier than he expected, but his mind was busy with other things.

'He is a lock to which only she had the key'. Apparently there was a double meaning to the otherwise nonsensical phrase. He only had to figure it out, as she expected him to. But what could she possibly mean?"

Meanwhile, Freyja's head swam in and out of various memories. Most were broken and jumbled into an incoherent mess, but one stood out like a flame in darkness. The last conversation she had with her father before she refused to speak to him again. The day she truly gave up hope in her family.

_Her father was tall and, as with all Vanir, had blue-black skin, pale powder blue eyes, sharp, angular features and long black hair pulled back at his neck with a leather tie. Freyja had always found it strange that her eyes were electric blue while the rest of her people shared the same ice blue shade that marked them in any form. But she was too busy examining how his features were now contorted in a stubborn glare._

_"I will not repeat myself again, Freyja. You are forbidden to see the boy again!"_

_"Why?" she yelled at him, defiance gleaming in her eyes. "Give me one good reason besides his blood! He is not like his people, he is different! If you only met him, you would approve!"_

_"I am your father and you will do as you're told! You will marry Odr and you will not object! What in the name of the Wise One do you find wrong with him?"_

_She was not hindered by his use of the title given to the Vanir's creator. It may have intimidated the others, but she did not care._

_"I feel no love towards him."_

_"You believe love has anything to do with marriage? Love is an emotion for the other realms, not for us."_

_"Oh, do tell me what emotions are allowed," she scoffed. "Ever since the end of the war, we have extracted negative emotions and crushed any others we feel. We have turned ourselves into stone out of the belief that we will find tranquility and enlightenment in our apathy. We haven't become wiser, we've become rocks!_

_"The reason we have not progressed further is because we feel no passion. When we smother our passion, we have no drive! No ambition!"_

_"Passion is for the foolish."_

_"And indifference for the ignorant!" she screamed._

_"Your time with the Asgardian has corrupted you!"_

_"It has awakened me to the truth! We hide from our emotions because we are afraid of the damage we caused in anger. But we have made ourselves empty. We are not living, we're existing!"_

_He scowled, "Would you rather be dead?"_

_"I'd rather experience life for one day and die the next than live the hollow life you want for me. Do you not wish for me to be happy?"_

_"Why wouldn't you be happy with Odr?"_

_"Because I am not happy in his presence now. I will not live my life simply being content! I will not become the vacant automaton you wish me to be!"_

_"Why is it you must be so stubborn?"_

_"I am stubborn because I know that this lifestyle we have chosen is wrong. The Wise One gave us feelings when He created us, why should we extinguish them? The only reason you allowed this to go so far is because you were hurt by your own infidelity!"_

_"You dare-"_

_She cut him off, unable to stop herself from proving her point, "You were forced into a lackluster marriage so you found the love you craved elsewhere. Your affair with my mother was what killed both her and your wife!"_

_"Silence!"_

_She automatically stepped back, suddenly realizing she had gone too far._

_"It is not your place to speak of such!"_

_"But it is the truth and it deserves to be told as such rather than in whispered rumors. Does Freyr even know?"_

_"You will not tell your brother of this!"_

_She nodded, "You're right, I won't. But you will."_

_He paled, "He does not need to know what is not important."_

_"But he deserves to know anyway! We need to stop running from the truths we don't approve of. How can we call ourselves wise if we shun the shadows that dance among light? You cannot claim to understand the world if you ignore half of it."_

_"Enough of this nonsense! You will forget about the boy, you will marry Odr, you will be content with the life I have chosen for you and you will thank me for it! This discussion is over."_

_She paused, thinking through what she was about to do, "You're right. This discussion is over._

_" I will not marry Odr and I will not hide from what I feel. As I am illegitimate, and therefore not fully of noble blood, the laws of marriage have no control over me. I have no more strength to withstand your rulings over my life. If you cannot accept me for how I am, then I have no place in this family."_

_She slipped the solid gold ring, the one that identified her as the king's daughter, off her hand and placed it on the small table next to her that stood under the tapestry of the royal family. The first ring was quickly followed by the star-emblazoned silver band that marked her as Queen Van's daughter, an identity that she had no right to._

_"I will not trouble you any longer," she bowed stiffly. "May the Wise One ensure your safety and prosperity. Farewell, King Njord."_

_She turned swiftly and walked out, feeling his skeptical gaze on her as she left the room. Despite the tense argument, Freyja felt the waves of sadness rush over her at the idea that their relationship had ended this way. Part of her thought he would come out and call her back._

_As she reached the end of the hall, she realized he wasn't going to. He had rejected her, accepted her denouncement of their ties. Tears blinded her sight as she pushed the doors to the palace open._

_"Heimdall," she whispered. "Please open the Bifrost."_

_And then she was back in the Observatory at the edge of Asgard._

_"Thank you, Heimdall," she breathed, ignoring the lingering energy sickness, as he watched her sadly._

_She ran the rest of the way to the palace, desperately fighting back the tears that threatened to choke her. Her chambers were empty, as usual, and she was able to cope with her sorrow in silence._

_That night, she cried in the arms of the man she wasn't allowed to be with. His embrace holding her close, as if afraid she would break if he let her go. As she drowned herself in her misery, one thought circled her mind. It taunted her, rubbing salt in her fresh wounds._

_Her father could have stopped her from leaving, could have accepted her feelings. But he didn't. He had let her leave without a second glance. He hadn't thought her worthwhile. He didn't care._

_Just like everything else._

* * *

Freyja woke up with a start, unable to rid her mind of the traces of her memory. Her eyes burned as tears sprang up in her eyes. She shook her head and stared at the light to stop them.

On top of the loathsome memory, she had a headache that felt as if an axe were cleaving her head in two. She shuffled out of bed and into the living room of the penthouse.

Tony was standing behind the bar with a coke, looking oddly cheerful. He examined her as she walked towards him, taking in her bedraggled appearance.

"You okay?"

"No. I have a terrible headache and I feel awful. Next time you plan on drinking, I will simply take water."

"It's called a hangover, and when you said you couldn't hold liquor, I didn't realize you meant that you get drunk within a few glasses," he laughed. "I have some Tylenol and coffee if you want."

She eyed the small pill in his hand, "I don't believe your medicines will do much good. I'll go meditate."

He raised his eyebrows, "Suit yourself."

She opened the door with the flick of her wrist, silver mist pouring from her palm, and walked out onto the balcony. She sat in her usual spot, on the metal overhang, and closed her eyes.

Clearing her mind seemed impossible, nothing could get rid of the pounding headache, and with it, the foreign emotion that clouded her mind. She sighed, trying to think of a name for it. Was it agitation? She wouldn't know if someone told her. Perhaps she should ask Thor to let her experience I few memories when he felt such.

She couldn't think of a name. Although she knew it had to be anger or irritation, she didn't know the difference between the two. The truth behind the sensations was impossible for her to find.

No longer able to meditate, she summoned up the courage to check on Loki once more. She felt responsible for him in more than one way, even though he was older than her by a few months. This time, it was easier to locate him.

He was no longer bound in any form, the gag taken off of his mouth. He was also awake and staring at the floor from his bench. Before she could pull away, he stiffened and she knew it was too late.

He looked up, incredulity on his face, "Freyja?"


	7. Chapter 6: Bitter Sugar

**_Song of the Chapter: Love the Way You Lie (Part 2/feat. Eminem) ~ Rihanna_**

* * *

_"I know of no more disagreeable situation than to be left feeling generally angry without anybody in particular to be angry at."_

_ -Frank Moore Colby_

* * *

Loki stiffened as he recognized the feeling of another presence in the cold Vault. He felt frozen, thinking that it was the Other coming to punish him for his failure. But then he recognized the presence, the one person he had ever let inside his head. The one person he never thought he would see again.

"Freyja?" he whispered into the empty air.

Suddenly, she appeared wearing a simple midnight blue silk dress. He took a few minutes to take in her appearance. She looked different from when she had left, slightly older. She had faint worry lines etched into her face, her strange electric-blue eyes no longer shone with the same brightness. She looked weary, as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But he could feel her emotions as they flowed out to him, as they did since she had awakened him.

Her emotions hit him like a tidal wave. They overlapped and crashed into each other, conflicting, to make a mess of sensations that threatened to overwhelm his mind. He fought to push them to the edges of his consciousness where they wouldn't bother him. Her turmoil was surprising and left him dazed and disorientated.

"Freyja? I thought-" he stopped, remembering something she had told him before. "You're a shade? What could you possibly have left to do to become a shade?"

She shook her head, her crimson hair dancing like flames, "I'm not a shade, Loki."

"But -" his eyes widened as he realized what she was saying. "You're alive."

He stood up, part of him wanting to hold her as he had done so long ago, another holding him back. Why had she hidden from him?

"How – Why did you not – Why did you lead me to believe you dead?"

He stared deep into her eyes as sadness and pain and something else, perhaps longing, burned in their depths. What answers could possibly justify leaving him in such a manner? He silently begged her for answers, wanting, and yet not, to hear her reasons.

"I – I wanted to come back. Honestly, I did. I wanted it more than anything. I just needed time."

"You needed a millennium?!" he hissed, his voice rising with his temper. "You couldn't have told me? I thought you had died in the explosion!"

She winced, "I would have come back, but something held me. I couldn't-"

"What could have possibly kept you from returning?" pain and anger mingled in his words, making them sharp. "Is my affection so trivial in your eyes?"

"How can you even ask such a thing? I stayed away to protect the Nine Realms, to protect you."

"Oh, do tell," he snapped, pacing like a caged animal.

"You know I was charged with protecting the Tesseract-"

"A duty you gave up when you renounced your family."

She gaped at him, stunned at his careless words, "I hid it away on Earth because it attracted too much attention to Asgard. What do you think I have been doing for the past eleven hundred years?"

"Enjoying life's many pleasures," he accused.

"I have been running from Thanos!"

He stopped dead, remembering the name.

"I would explain, but then you already are familiar with him," she spat. "Thor told me everything that happened in my absence. I have been keeping Thanos chasing after me to keep him away from you. But despite my precautions, you toss my actions to the wind and jump into the tempest without a second thought!

"What did you think to accomplish by handing him the Tesseract? He would have killed you, but after he made you watch the death of those you love."

"It does not matter, it seems that there is no one who truly loves me."

Something flared in her eyes, "You asked me not five minutes ago if your affections meant little to me, now I wonder if you no longer care for me."

He turned on her but she stared him down with equal strength, "Have I ever given you any reason to doubt my love? You, on the other hand, abandoned me."

She gaped, "How can say that when all of my actions have been to protect you?"

"Because, despite what you believe, you abandoned me. You kept the truth from me, something you vowed never to do."

"I kept you from pain and death!"

"You lied to me by not speaking the truth! Not only have you done this, but you knew I was a Frost Giant by blood since we first courted. Why did you not tell me? I expected such from Odin, but from you?"

"I didn't care that you are Jotunn, I don't care now! I thought I made that clear when I disowned my father!"

"But you didn't tell me!" he screamed, agony contorting his features.

"If you had known I was the bastard daughter of the Vanir King, would you have told me?" she demanded.

He turned away, remembering how heartbroken she had been when she found out, "That's different."

"How? I wanted to protect you from the grief I felt, just as you would have done had you known!"

"That does not change anything. You betrayed me, how can I trust you now?"

She grabbed his shoulder, wrenching him towards her so that she could look him in the eye, "How can you complain when you have so much?"

"What do I have? No one loves me! No one even cared enough to tell me the truth!"

"Everyone cared!" she screamed, tears forming in her eyes. "Your mother and father took you in, kept you from the painful truth! Your brother treated you with the respect and affection anyone would envy! My father did not love me enough to try to persuade me not to leave! He let me walk out of his life as if I were a servant who poured his drinks!

"You have everything! You still have your family, your friends! Your world still exists! I have lost it all! What do I have in my past? A broken family and a love life I could not tell anyone about! What do I have ahead of my? An endless purgatory of running! Don't you dare accuse those who care for you of not loving you when you take everything for granted!"

"You think you are in Hel?" he yelled back at her. "My life is a lie! No one is who I thought they were, not even myself! I try to prove to Odin that I can be worthy and he spurns my actions! I try to find a kingdom of my own to rule and I am thrown in prison! No matter what my actions are, I never do anything right!

"And on top of everything, I find out that you, the only one I ever truly trusted, the single person I believed to love me, have also kept me in the dark! You have betrayed me! You claim to feel love when your people are as empty as stone! Your people are incapable of feeling anything! Why should I believe you when you've done this? Your people are masters of deception, why should you be any different? You are just like the rest of them: untrustworthy and cold!"

"Enough!" she yelled, making him back up a few steps.

Of all the time he spent with Freyja, she had never expressed anger. It was impossible for a Vanir to feel rage, until now it seemed.

"Why do you do this to us? To your friends? To your family? To me?" she whispered, before her voice rose with her temper. "I'm fighting a war, Loki. A war without weapons, or even an enemy. Since the fall of Vanaheim, I have been overwhelmed with emotions I cannot name. They cloud my judgment, twist my words until they are cruel, make peace and tranquility impossible to find. And nothing works against it! My world is crumbling down around me!"

Her ferocity surprised him. She was expressing sentiments that she shouldn't have the capacity to feel. Anger, jealousy, violence; they were all supposed to be impossible to experience by Vanir. But something had broken through two millennia's worth of sorcery and exposed her to the foreign emotions.

"But no matter how much pain I receive, the worst of it is what you inflict upon me! You have hidden yourself behind a mask, a mask of brutality and malice. You use it to hide your emotions, your pain, your turmoil. Afraid to show what you believe as weakness, you try to hide behind power.

"You once said you would never let me lose myself, but what about you? You're letting your pain blind you, Loki, blind you into believing power will give you what is needed. But power is a poison. The more you struggle for it, the more you die. Every time you kill someone, you are dying inside yourself.

"Do you know who I see in the mask you hide behind?"

He remained silent, his strength drained, not wanting to hear the answer. For some reason, she was breaking him down unlike anyone else could. Freyja had always been able to cut through him until what was exposed was the raw truth.

"Do you know who I see?" she demanded.

"Please," he whispered, desperately not wanting to hear what he knew she would say.

"I see Thor," she answered, making him flinch. "I see a heartless, greedy prince who hungers for bloodshed and supremacy. I see a man who would cut down anyone in his way, including those he loves. This is not you.

"I know you, the real you. What happened to the man I loved? The man who treasured knowledge and excelled in arts that required elegance and tact, who was content with watching from the sidelines, who relished working with simply his wit rather than a sword. I know he's still there. If he wasn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

He stared at the wall, not wanting to see the pain and questioning in her blue eyes. But he could feel her watching him. Worry, longing and agony all emanated off of her in waves.

She sighed, her voice softening, "What happened to you, Loki?"

"I found out what blood truly runs through my veins," he whispered.

"Let me help you," she whispered back, holding out her hand to him.

He took it gently, tenderly, in the same manner as in the past, and she was no longer in the cell. The jail disappeared, leaving the Vault she was familiar with. _At the end stood a pedestal that held a glowing blue-white glass box._

_Loki, no different from the Loki in the prison cell, walked slowly towards the box that Freyja identified as the Frost Giants' Casket of Ancient Winters. He gingerly took hold of the handles on the sides, lifting it off the pedestal, and his skin changed to the bright blue of the Jotuns._

_"Stop!"_

_Freyja jumped at the sound of Odin's voice. She watched, biting back the all-consuming emotion she couldn't name, as Loki stiffened._

_"Am I cursed?"_

_"No."_

_"What am I?" he asked as he replaced the Casket._

_"You are my son," Odin answered softly._

_Loki turned, his now red eyes burning with bitterness against his paling skin, "What more than that?"_

_He began to walk towards his father, "The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim, was it?"_

_"No. In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple, and I found a baby. Small, for a Giant's offspring, abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son."_

_"Laufeyson?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Why?" Loki's voice was full of sadness and confusion. "You were knee-deep in Jotun blood, why would you take me?"_

_"You were an innocent child."_

_"No. You took me for a purpose. What was it?"_

_Odin stood in silence as Freyja watched Loki's pain break through._

_"TELL ME!"_

_She flinched in pain that mirrored his. This was not the way he should have found out. She should have told him when she was told the truth. He was right, his pain was partially her fault._

_"I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace, through you."_

_"What?"_

_Freyja turned away, unable to bear the heartache in Loki's eyes. She felt helpless at the inability to comfort him. At the guilt of her silence. But the misery in his voice hurt worse, like a knife plunged through her heart._

_"But those plans no longer matter."_

_"So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me."_

_"Why do you twist my words?"_

_"You could have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn't you?"_

_"You're my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth."_

_"Why? Because I-I-I am the monster who parents tell their children about at night?"_

_"No," Freyja said at the same time as Odin, but Loki continued as his pain turned to fury._

_"You know, it all makes sense now, why you favored Thor all these years. Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"_

_Freyja steadied herself against the wall, Loki's anger magnifying her guilt as she realized a connection. She shook her head stubbornly, as if the connection would disappear._

And then, she was back in the cell. She stared at the floor, disgusted and guilty. Loki watched her, misery in his eyes.

She shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks, "I- I'm sorry. I did this to you."

He looked up in shock, "What are you saying? This had nothing to do with you."

He stood up reaching for her, but she backed away.

"This was my fault," she whispered, sobbing silently.

"I do not see how this was any fault of yours," he continued.

"Forgive me, Loki," she pleaded.

"Freyja," he reached for her shoulder, pulling her close. "How could you possibly think this is your fault?"

He sat down on the bench, taking her with him. He stroked her hair with his long fingers, relishing the softness he hadn't felt since she left. One of the many things that amazed him about her was that her projections always felt real, as if she were really there. He had missed this, the closeness despite their spat.

"Do you recall when your father refused to send reinforcements to Vanaheim?"

"Yes," he whispered in her ear. "I will never forget."

"Do you recall what I said to him?"

He slowed, thinking, "I believe so."

"And I trust you know of the impact of curses spoken in my tongue?"

He stopped, looking into her eyes, "I thought that was a myth."

"When have you known a myth not to be true?"

He understood that, it was a lesson he had learned very quickly through her teachings. It was one of the harder lessons to learn, but he accepted it readily. Despite this, he still found it hard to wrap his mind around the fact that legends such the creation of all and a Vanir's Curse were real.

"Go on."

"You should be able to put the two together," she whispered into his chest.

"You think that my actions stemmed from the words you spoke?" he whispered.

He thought about that for a second as she nodded reluctantly. It was possible, now that he thought about it, that the curse could have come to reality by him finding the truth. But he did not blame her for that. He wondered what it must be like to lose everything permanently, as she had. She seemed so fragile in his arms, a little neglected porcelain doll.

He wanted to make her smile. The overwhelming need to see her happy again gnawed at him relentlessly. She had been furious, agonized, and guilty since he had first realized she was present. Now he longed for the euphoria she brought when she was happy. The way he got drunk on her delight. He was ravenous for it.

"Perhaps you're right," he breathed, angling her head upward so he could see her. "But it doesn't matter."

He brought his face down to hers and kissed her softly. She leaned in towards him, deepening the kiss. He allowed himself to tangle his fingers in the coils of her hair as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue. Her tears had made her skin taste of salt, but he didn't mind. He could feel the bliss reverberating through her aura with her heartbeat.

He felt her fingers tracing over his lean muscles, following a path he knew was familiar to her. He always relished any time spent with her, though what he enjoyed most was unknown to him. Perhaps it was the idea that she was forbidden, intended to be untouchable to him, and yet she was completely and solely his. _What would have Njord done_, he thought, _if he had found about us?_

One of his hands trailed down her spine, barely brushing her skin, to the small of her back as he pulled her towards him. She shivered under his touch, and his lips trailed down the side of her chin to her neck.

"Loki," she breathed as he nuzzled the curve of where her shoulder met her neck.

He felt her gently pushing him away, leaving an inch between them, "Please don't make this harder for me than it already is."

"You're right, I'm sorry," he hissed into her ear. "How long will it be until you return?"

Sadness flashed in her eyes, "Loki…"

He pulled back slightly, "You are coming back, are you not?"

She sighed, "I wish I could without bringing Thanos as well."

"Freyja, Asgard can hold its own against Thanos. Nothing will happen here. Pleases come back."

He could see the indecision in her eyes when she spoke, "What would you do if you were me?"

He stopped, thinking over the question with care. He knew he couldn't tell her his answer, for he would stay away as well. He would do anything to keep her safe, but he was powerless against this. And he could tell she already knew his true answer.

"When this is over, I swear I will atone for this."

"Atone for it now," he pleaded. "Come home."

Her resolve was wavering, but something still seemed strong.

"And what will you do to reconcile for your wrongs?"

He buried his face into her neck again, "I will take whatever penance you deem worthy. Every day, I-"

He broke off as he caught a glimpse of the black tally marks on her right shoulder. Brushing back the silk, he revealed dozens of them. They spanned from the top of her shoulder down to her the edge of her chest and a little past the neckline of her gown.

"What are these?"

"The reason I keep running," she said sadly. "I don't want you to be among them."

"They're lives," he whispered. "Lives spent."

She clenched her jaw, "One for each life Thanos took because of me."

"Why would you keep a count?"

"To make sure I never wavered, never looked back."

He looked at her, searching for a sign of something, anything in her face, but she looked eerily detached.

"I cannot return to Asgard so long as I am hunted by Thanos."

"Can you not simply destroy the Tesseract?"

She shook her head, "I would first have to find the most remote corner of Yggdrasil. But even then, I would not be able to destroy it without killing myself."

"What is it that the Tesseract holds?" he asked. "I have felt a fraction of its power, but it seems…sinister."

"It was a mistake that can no longer be fixed, stemming from the end of the war."

She kissed him hungrily, a pang of regret tainting it. She had only kissed him so desperately once before, and he did not like the resemblance. The last time she kissed him in a similar manner, she disappeared for a millennia and a century.

"Don't leave me," he whispered frantically, taking hold of her hand.

She smiled in a bitter-sweet manner, "I will not leave you in the same manner I have. I will come back, I promise."

She let her fingers trail across his as she pulled away. He wanted to stop her, to keep her with him, but his body refused to respond. Seconds after she let go, her projection disappeared. Leaving him in the dark with an emptiness he couldn't bear.

Freyja opened her eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady herself. Her headache had gone, but now she was left shaken. Visiting Loki had been a mistake on her part. Now she wasn't sure she had the strength to make the choice. But she knew what she had to do. If she chose to be happy again, she would lose so much more. The higher the level of bliss, she had found, the harder she fell when it was over. She couldn't lose him.

And, yet, she couldn't stay away either. He needed her. She him even more so. How could she continue when he had such a strong hold on her? He was like poison, her father had told her. But it seemed more as if he were sunlight; she would burn from too much and fall ill from too little. She searched the possible future, but could see no end to the madness.

No longer having any ideas on what to do, Freyja stood up and walked briskly inside. Tony was standing behind the holographic screen of his computers.

"Still have the headache?" he asked quizzically. "You've been out there for an hour."

"The pain is gone," she answered. "But I feel worse."


	8. Chapter 7: Understanding the Misjudged

**_AN: Please ignore the little problem I encountered with this story, it is fixed now. Also, in relation to the title, the chapter that tells you exactly what "Renascentia" is has been added to the very beginning of the story. I'm absolutely thrilled by how many people have been looking at the story and I appreciate you all. Special thanks to GirlWhoLovesVampires16 who followed this story and added it to her favorites. You made my day. :)_**

* * *

_"One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood."_

_ -Lucius Annaeus Seneca_

* * *

The next morning's meditation didn't go any better. Freyja didn't visit Loki or check in on Thor, but she still couldn't concentrate. Her escapade with Loki the previous morning had dredged up old memories in the night that just made her feel worse about her situation. She had checked every strand of the future, just to be sure.

About a third of them were the results of her breaking down and returning to Asgard. None of those turned out well. One image of her cradling Loki's body as blood slowly gushed from a long wound that spanned the length of his torso. Another showed her broken on the floor, Thanos in possession of the Tesseract. One where Thor was impaled on a spear, his hammer laying useless next to him. An alternative version where everyone was in chains, waiting in line for their execution. Then, most disturbingly, a vision of herself chained to the ground, surrounded by what looked like the ruins of Asgard, as Thanos sat on a throne of gold.

The rest, excluding one she had yet to riddle out, were visions of that would happen if she continued running. She saw herself in altering forms in different worlds. In each one, the black hash marks on her shoulder had multiplied. A few showed narrow escapes as Thanos tried to trap her. None of them seemed to have an end.

The last one that didn't seem to fit into any of the categories was confusing. It showed a shadow fighting what looked like a being made of wind. The two figures clashed, knocking into objects in their path. Something flickered through the air entity and it transformed into a creature made of flames. It didn't make any sense to Freyja.

None of them were acceptable in her eyes, none of them were optimistic. But, then again, time had made her a realist so she didn't believe in a perfect scenario. Perfection, an aspect her people had strived for, was something she didn't believe in. Just as she didn't believe in the apathy her people had clung to so desperately. The more she looked back on it, there were many aspects of her people that she did not agree with. But she had still been crushed when the planet had imploded.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. The skies were almost completely clear, obscured only by the occasional wispy cloud that drifted lazily across the blue. It was a dull color compared to the brilliance of the Vanaheim skies. If there was one thing she missed about her home, it was the stark contrast between the sable colors of the Vanir and the vivid hues that made up the world they lived in. But that no longer existed.

It hurt to think she would never see that beauty again. Never confide her doubts in her brother again. Never fix the shattered remains of her relationship with her father. All her friends were dead, all her family. It hurt so much that she felt as if her heart was being ripped out. The only cure to the ache, as she had recently found out, was Loki. But she couldn't have him.

When she first met Loki, he had exposed her for the first time to emotions and the simple happiness in everyday life. He was the one to show her that there was more to life than doing as she was told and keeping herself empty of everything. And she slowly adapted to the change, along with the other Vanir that spent most of their time in Asgard. He was an intense light that burned through the darkness of her rigid culture and everything that haunted her. He was the cure to anything that ailed her. But she couldn't have him.

Unable to continue sitting while getting nothing done, Freyja stood up and walked back into the building. Stark had left for some meeting, leaving her with a warning not to leave the building. A warning that she was about to ignore.

"Ma'am, Mr. Stark has given me strict orders not to allow you to leave," JARVIS said suddenly as she pushed the button for the elevator.

"If you don't allow me to leave this way, I will simply jump off the balcony," she answered. "I can assure you that I will survive the fall."

She heard the glass door lock, "I cannot allow you to leave."

"Alright. Make this harder for yourself," she muttered, placing her hand on the cool surface of the metal wall.

Wisps of her silver aura trailed from her fingers as she allowed them to follow the wires that led to JARVIS's mainframe. She wasn't particularly familiar with Earth's technology, but she found it easier to manipulate than she had originally thought. She smiled, thinking how it was too easy to tweak his system.

The door to the elevator slid open and she stepped in, pushing the button for the ground floor of Stark Tower. She was both surprised and pleased with the advances the humans had made since she had last been there. Asgard was a world trapped in time, with customs that came out of the past. Although it was quaint and refreshing, she preferred the modern and antiquated mix of Vanaheim. Even if she did not agree with the customs practiced.

She stepped out as the doors opened, nodding to the blonde-haired woman behind the front desk. Freyja found Midgardian fashion strange but oddly comfortable compared to her usual attire. Leather was reduced to jackets and metal wasn't worn in any form besides jewelry. She had found that while Tony wore silk shirts or cotton tees, many others did not. She was glad when he lent her some clothes he received from a woman named Pepper Potts.

Today she had picked out a button down white blouse, blue jeans and her knee-high riding boots she had managed to salvage from the wreckage of her ship. As she walked out onto the sidewalk outside, she looked around at her surroundings. Large screens flashing advertisements of random Midgardian objects adorned various buildings. People bustled through the streets, talking into devices and yelling at others around them. Cars zoomed by in all colors.

She could smell the chemicals on the air. Another thing she missed about Vanaheim, the lack of pollution. Humans had yet to find a clean source of anything besides Tony's arc reactor and a few other innovations that he had informed her about. She had worked with Tony and Bruce the day before, watching how they worked through the problems they faced. It was surprising that the humans took the long way to solve everything. Then Bruce had asked for a sample of her blood, wondering about her DNA.

She had let him take a sample, explaining the anomaly of her ever-changing molecular structure. Both had been startled at the instability of her genetic code, but had accepted her answer with ease. She found that while Tony was skeptical and joking, Bruce was much easier to talk to because of his sincerity and acceptance. He reminded her of an old friend who had long since died. It was easier to be more open with him as he didn't judge her.

It was easier for her to weave her way through the crowds that made their way through the labyrinth of streets because of her reflexes. She rather enjoyed the anonymity that greeted her on Earth. No one bowed or moved away when she walked by. It was invigorating to simply be another person rather than Princess of Vanaheim. It was always so much easier to hide on Earth because of their lack of knowledge of her identity. No whispers of her whereabouts reached Thanos's ears when she stayed briefly on Midgard.

What did bother her was the amount of tragedy that laced the human's world. There was so much pain, so many needless deaths, it disgusted her. Where the Vanir did not fight at all and the Asgardians made sparring a game, death seemed to be a sport on Earth. The malignant thoughts that swirled in the humans' minds were sickening. And although many human lives that were lost lay etched into her skin, she couldn't count the number of humans she had saved from themselves.

"Freyja?" she heard a familiar voice behind her.

She turned to find Captain Steve Rogers in a white tee, brown leather jacket and jeans making his way towards her. She smiled in response, waving him over.

"What are you doing out here? I thought you were staying in Stark Tower."

She raised her eyebrows, "Am I not allowed to go out on my own? Can I truly not go walking when the notion pleases me?"

He reached her, shaking his head, "I didn't mean it like that. I just heard that you were supposed to stay in Stark Tower."

She scowled, "I do not enjoy being told what to do. I will follow instruction if I believe it necessary, but I don't believe a walk will cause any harm."

He smiled, "I understand. When I first woke up here, I didn't put up with them trying to keep me inside."

"Woke up here?" she asked. "Are you not from New York?"

He shook his head, hands in his jeans pockets, "Remember when I told you that you wouldn't believe my story?"

"I do."

"I'm from the 1940's. I was frozen for almost seventy years and only woke up last year."

He was silent while he waited for her response. She was quiet for a few minutes, before bursting out into laughter.

"Is something funny?" he asked.

"Simply the idea that you thought I would not believe your story," she sighed as she stopped laughing. "I am a three thousand-year-old, by your standards, shape-shifting sorceress who has seen every realm at various points in time and you assumed that I would not believe you to be older than you look? Do I look as old as I truly am?"

He turned red, "No, ma'am."

"Please do not call me that. I may be a princess, but I am not above you."

He blinked in surprise at that, taking a second to think about her reasoning.

"Is something strange?"

"I – well, sort of. I expected you to be more…stuck up I guess."

"I don't believe in social hierarchies. What would make me better than you?"

He shrugged, "Aren't you stronger than us?"

"I am physically stronger, faster, and more versatile; I heal faster, use the full capacity of my mind, wield magic, change my form, and manipulate the mind. I may be more adept but I am not above you."

"I don't understand how you think that but okay…"

She smiled, "You are a soldier, are you not?"

He nodded, "I fought in World War two against a group called HYDRA."

"I haven't the slightest idea of what you are speaking of."

"I forgot you haven't been here in…How long, exactly?"

"Approximately five hundred years, give or take a century. Things are very different now than they were then."

He whistled, "And I thought I didn't belong. What was it like in the 1500's?"

"In those times, life was simpler. Buildings did not reach the heavens as they do now, and people were grouped into strict social categories. I was in London at the time. The city was not especially scenic but the countryside was stunning. I was working alongside a man named William at the time. He wrote plays, but they did not become popular until the later years."

"William? You knew Shakespeare?"

She nodded, "He was a delight to speak with. It is very seldom I meet such an imaginative person."

"Who else did you know?"

"I knew many people, all of them dead now. Some died in gruesome ways, others died in their sleep. I have attended all of their funerals. It is depressing, to know that those you love must die as you live on."

He looked down, "I know what you mean."

She looked at him, "Forgive me. I did not think to consider the friends you have lost in your time."

"It's alright. I was just thinking about Peggy."

"Peggy?"

"An amazing woman I knew."

She scrutinized him, "You cared greatly for this Peggy, did you not?"

He sighed, "I was supposed to meet her a week after I crashed."

"Crashed?"

"I crashed a plane into the ocean to save New York, and a lot of other cities. I wonder what happened to her…"

"Sacrificing your life for the good of the majority," Freyja sighed. "That is a story I know too well."

He glanced at her, taking in her solemn expression, "You've seen it before?"

She laughed humorlessly, "I have done the same thing. I was in love, still am to be truthful. I originally left to fight with my people, but I never made it. It was only after the destruction that I found that if I wanted to keep him and his world alive, I would have to stay away.

"The Tesseract, as you call it, I was supposed to guard it. I hid it here so that if I was ever caught, no one could take it. I have been running from realm to realm since."

"What is the Tesseract?"

She shook her head, "If I told you, I would put your life in danger beyond your wildest imagination. It is better to stay ignorant of its purpose. Look at me, I know all of its secrets and, in attempt to gain those, my enemies have ripped my life away from me. I have permanently lost my family and my people, I cannot go to my love without fear I shall bring death as well, I cannot even stay in one place for more than a fortnight at most. All I have left is my identity and my goal. I must continue running for eternity to protect the safety of every living creature on the Yggdrasil."

He tried desperately for something to say, but what do you say to that? He had sacrificed himself for the good of the country, she was giving up her life for the existence of the universe. She truly had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Is there no way to change things?"

"I foresee no answers to this. I have an eternity of running before me, I can do nothing but hope the fates are kind."

"Can I ask you a question? It's kind of off topic."

"Go on."

"You're not really a goddess, are you?"

She giggled, "Of course not. I am simply of another species. We were worshipped for our strength and magic. But we believe we were created by a single, all-knowing being we call the Wise One."

"You believe in God?"

"I believe it is the same being, just named differently. But the Asgardians believe in another story."

"Huh. I never would have pegged you as a Christian."

"A what?"

"Never mind," he shook his head. "So, what's your story?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, different religions here have different stories of how people were created. I was just wondering-"

"What our origin story is," she nodded understandingly. "Our story goes that the Wise One created seven worlds of different species, all created for a purpose in the Divine Plan. Despite his creations, he found he needed another species to moderate the others. So he created the Vanir out of wind and stars, making us both striking and powerful. We had more restraint than the rest of the species, and were given a land more beautiful than anything he had created before.

"But not everyone was thrilled with our strength. It wasn't long before the Asgardians waged war against us. We nearly destroyed each other. The Asgardians prefer to think the war ended in a truce, but the truth is that we broke through their defenses and offered them a chance. We made a treaty, we would not enter the minds of others' and they would not harm us, along with other things that we never should have done."

"Like what?"

"Hmm?" she looked at him, pulled away from her reverie.

"What did you do that you shouldn't have?"

She laughed, "Where to begin? For a race that claims to be wise, we have made many foolish mistakes. I suppose the first and largest was extracting our negative emotions and suppressing the rest."

"What?"

"After the second war, we began believing the devastation we created stemmed from our emotions. In order to prevent such disasters, my father created a charm that extracts emotions such as anger, jealousy, vanity, and battle-lust. We then snuffed out the rest of our emotions until we were stone. Nothing could hurt us, but nothing could make us happy, either."

He looked her up and down, "But you feel things, don't you? You don't seem…emotionless."

"Courtesy of Asgard. The few that lived in Asgard as ambassadors became open to emotions. It's impossible to live among people who are so driven by their emotions and remain hollow. After I had tasted happiness, I refused to continue driving it away."

"When was that?"

"Why the curiosity in my life?"

He shrugged, "I guess it's because it's refreshing to be around another person who doesn't come from this time."

"I understand. Despite the advancement of Vanaheim, I do find this era very peculiar. What was it you asked?"

"When was the first time you felt happiness?"

"I was seven years of age. Loki and I had snuck out of the palace one full moon and stargazed from the Bifrost, the rainbow bridge that acts as a gateway to the other worlds."

"You were friends with Loki?"

"I know what you must feel towards Loki, but he was not the same then. You must understand, he was the smaller, the younger, and the weaker. He was misunderstood by the others because he was intelligent and not good at physical feats. He could take quite a few hits, though. If anything, he was resilient."

"I know what it's like to be the weaker man," Steve pointed out. "I wasn't always like this. I was constantly being underestimated; I can't even count the times I was beat up. All this," –he gestured at himself-"came from an experimental serum."

She nodded, "I cannot justify his actions, but I can tell you what led him to them, though. On top of living in his brother's shadow, he found out that he was lied to since he was a child. Everything that he thought was real, even his identity, was false. He lost sight of himself, and fell prey to darker instincts."

"What was he like? Before finding out the truth, I mean."

"He was very quiet and secretive at first. But he opened up to me unlike anyone else. We understood each other, and became very close as a result. I was a repressed princess, a captive to my people's ways, and he was a misunderstood prince with self-regard issues. When we were together, we felt as if we actually belonged somewhere.

"When he was around me, he was significantly happier. The Loki I knew was compassionate, analytical, curious, loyal and spirited. I was drawn to his liveliness like a moth to a flame, longing for what I had never experienced. He showed me life, and I showed him his strength."

"You taught him magic. Do you ever regret it?"

She was silent for a second, thinking it through, "No. He found delight in magic, it gave him something that he was superior at. If he did not have that outlet, his self-questioning would have been far worse. With magic, he has a way to see his own self-worth."

"I can respect that."

She smiled, "You must be the only one."

"You seem to care about him a lot."

"He means a great deal to me," Freyja said shortly.

A few minutes of silence passed between the two of them as Steve realized he had reached an uncomfortable topic. He racked his brain for something to say to ease the tension.

"Are you hungry?" he asked weakly.

"A little," she conceded.

"I know a great pizza joint not too far from here."

"What is pizza?"

He opened and closed his mouth without a sound, unable to come up with a response. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't come up with an answer.

"It's easier just to show you," he finally managed.

"I should let you know I do not eat meat."

He shrugged, "That's alright. We can just get cheese."

Louie's Pizza Parlor was only a few blocks away from where they were. Steve opened the door for Freyja, surprising her.

"What's wrong?" he laughed. "You act like you didn't know we had manners."

"I have seen an appalling lack of them since I came," she explained.

"Yeah, common courtesy isn't exactly general anymore."

She followed him, watching in silence as he ordered a medium cheese pizza and two drinks.

"Have you ever had soda?"

"No."

"Do you feel like trying something new?"

"You'll find I'm open to many things."

He gestured for her to sit down while he got the food. Taking the chair across from her, he placed the tray down on the table and took a slice. He watched, mid-bite, as she ate four slices.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"I- I've just never seen a lady eat so much."

She burst into laughter, "Do women not eat here?"

"No, I mean- I meant," he desperately backtracked, trying to think of a better way to phrase what he had said.

"My metabolism runs faster than human's due to the amount of energy used to wield magic. As a matter of fact, I cannot gain weight. My cells use up most of the energy from the food I eat. Very little is stored."

"Oh. I'm sorry, by the way. I didn't mean to be rude."

"You weren't. I do not believe in condemning people simply because of curiosity."

She took a sip of her soda, immediately crying out in surprise. Her hand flew to her mouth, a look of surprise on her face.

"It burns," she exclaimed softly.

He tried not to laugh as he realized what she was talking about, "That's the carbonation."

She eyed the drink suspiciously, "Why would you want to have a drink that bites?"

"I don't know, I didn't think about it. I guess I'm just used to it."

He continued with his slice of pizza. Freyja didn't touch her soda again, but looked at something over his shoulder. He glanced behind him to see the flashing lights of several video games from the mini arcade.

"Do you want me to show you how to play?"

"They are games?"

"Yeah. Come on and I'll show you."

They both got up and walked into the dimly lit room that held five different games and a mini basketball game. He put a quarter into the basketball game and a few rolled down the ramp, suddenly glad for the hours Tony had spent teaching him how to play different arcade games.

"Alright," he said, picking up one. "This one's pretty simple. All you have to do is throw the ball through the hoop."

"Like this?" she tossed the ball easily, making it fall through the hoop without touching the edges.

"Uh, yeah, exactly like that."

She smiled apologetically, "I'm good with precision-based games. My people were expert marksmen."

She picked up another, bouncing it expertly against the hoop so it rolled around the edge once before sliding through.

"I'm pretty sure that's cheating," he laughed.

They continued until the timer ran out thirty seconds later. He moved on to the virtual driver game. He found that Freyja was not good at driving, as she had never been behind the wheel of a car before. He picked up one of the plastic guns on a war game after.

"This one is a little easier," he said. "You just shoot the enemies and protect your partner."

She picked up the other gun, weighing it in her hand, "Why must you shoot these people?"

"Because they'll shoot you if you give the chance."

"But why is that?"

"They're the bad guys."

"I don't agree with this idea."

"Scared you'll be outmatched?" he teased. "I'll try not to leave you in the dust."

She inspected it once more, holding it steadily, "And all you must do is push this button to shoot?"

"Yup."

"Alright, that should be easy enough."

He put in two quarters and started the game. He stifled a laugh as she positioned the gun up to her face, looking long the length of the barrel. He only had a second to laugh, though.

As soon the game started, Freyja had already shot three in the chest. He found himself struggling to keep up as the game continued. She was steadily gaining more and more points as she hit each man squarely in the heart, the neck, or the forehead. When the game finally finished, she was a hundred points ahead of him.

"You'll try not to leave me in the dust?" she asked, a mischievous grin playing across her face.

"Beginner's luck," he muttered.

She laughed, "If it makes you feel better, I'll try not to outshine you so much next time."

"Uh-huh."

"I could give you some advice if you would like."

"You know what, I'd love to see you go against Barton. I wonder who the better shot is."

She suppressed a shiver at the thought of facing those strange eyes again, "Perhaps in the future."

"Should I plan something?"

"Whatever you wish," but she truly didn't look forward to it.


	9. Chapter 8: Insincere Sincerity

_"A woman's life can really be a succession of lives, each revolving around some emotionally compelling situation or challenge, and each marked off by some intense experience."_

_ -Wallis Simpson_

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Tony came home at about dusk to find Freyja outside on the metal overhang, meditating. He had found out that she always meditated at dawn and again at dusk, usually spending an hour or more just depending on how the day had gone. She was always unresponsive when he found her meditating, as if she was no more than an empty shell.

He had been searching for days for information on her, puzzled and curious about the secrets she kept. How many aspects of her life did she hide and, better yet, why did she hide them? So far, none of the information was stable. Her life was an enigma he wanted to solve.

He glanced outside at her figure again, "Jarvis, how long has Freyja been out?"

"No more than five minutes, sir."

"Perfect," he smiled as he walked down the hall towards her room.

She was incredibly, and somewhat annoyingly, neat with her room. Everything had a specific place, nothing was ever off by so much as an inch. This meant that he would have to be careful when rifling through her belongings, as she would know if he had moved anything.

The first thing he looked at was her strange tablet-like computer made of diamond. He tapped the surface twice, watching as the screen flickered to life. It was password protected, and not in English, either. He stared at the elegantly twisted glyphs along what he guessed was the on-screen keyboard, trying to guess what each one meant.

Pulling out a small silver circle, he attached it to the back of the diamond. He raised his eyebrows as the screen turned red and beeped. This was the first time JARVIS hadn't been able to hack into any computer system. Guessing that he probably would waste time trying to open it, he replaced it on the bedside table and walked around the room in search of something else.

While he walked, he thought of the various hints she had given him. Each of her rings stood for a title she had. One that claimed her as the sister of the crowned prince, one for being the ambassador in Asgard, another for being a master sorceress, one for being named the Goddess of love and beauty, the gold band with silver glyphs embedded into its surface that he didn't know what it meant, and the strange ring that looked as if someone had taken a solid chunk of emerald and cut it into a ring. Her titanium armband and silver circlet marked her as a member of the royal family, her necklace a memento of her dead mother. The cape of feather was-

The cape. He had forgotten the mysterious cloak that had transported him into what he could only guess as her past. She hadn't been wearing it, so it must be in the room somewhere. He walked over to the closet, throwing the door open to check. The only things in the closet were the random clothes he had let her borrow from Pepper as well as an old-fashioned tunic and leather pants that looked as if they were centuries old. They probably were.

Where would she keep a cloak of falcon feathers? He checked through the drawers only to find nothing. She was hiding it, and people only hide things for a reason. He found it folded neatly under the bed.

He pulled it out, unfolding it carefully to make sure he could refold it exactly. The feathers were in perfect condition as if they had just been collected. Each one was pure white and flawlessly straight. It was also forked, as he had not realized before, and shaped to look almost like wings.

He ran his fingers over the edge of one of the feathers as he had before, but nothing happened. Was there a trick to it? He tried to think of what he had done differently. It couldn't have anything to do with Bruce, the idea was ridiculous. He doubted it had anything to do with Freyja.

"What are you hiding?" he muttered, trying to think.

The sensation of falling was incredible and sickening at the same time. He felt as if he would throw up as colors swirled around him. When his vision finally settled, or maybe the setting itself, he looked around.

He was out in the woods near a lake, golden towers loomed in the distance. The younger Freyja stood at the edge next to a person who could only have been a younger Loki. She loosened the ties on the front of the leather corset she wore over her blue dress, slipping it over her skirt and off.

"Freyja! What in the name of the Nine Realms are you doing?" Loki exclaimed, turning red in the face.

She slipped her dress off next, revealing the white floor-length chemise underneath, "I am going for a swim."

She dove into the water, surfacing a minute later. She gasped for air and pushed her hair out of her face.

"Do come in, Loki. The water is marvelous."

Loki looked as if he was baffled by the request. Tony guessed it wasn't often that a woman simply undresses and jumps into a lake in Asgard. Loki's pale face had turned bright red and he tried to look elsewhere as if embarrassed to look straight at her.

"No, I think I'll stay here and wait for you to finish."

"If you don't, I shall be forced to drag you in. Leather, metal, and all," she threatened playfully.

He looked at her head-on, doubt and alarm in his eyes, "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

He sighed, pulling off his boots, "I'm only doing this because father will skin me alive if I ruin this armor."

She grinned and dove back underwater as he stripped down to his black leather pants. He walked slowly into the water, looking for her. Tony watched as he jumped, crying out in surprise. Freyja broke through the surface as he lost his footing and fell. He sat, looking slightly irritated, half in the water as she laughed.

"I can't believe you are so easily frightened," she giggled. "I merely grabbed your leg. What did you think it was?"

A grin split his face before he started laughing too. He splashed her with a flick of his wrist and she ducked away.

"Catch me if you can," she dared, sinking under the water once more.

And once again, Tony was falling through air as the scene swirled together into something new.

He was in what looked like a large metal container that was almost empty. Strange aircraft of all sorts lined the edges. A large silver plane-like thing stood at the opening, people going in. A roughly thirteen-year-old Freyja and Loki stood a few feet from the metal ramp that led to the ship.

Loki pulled a purple velvet bag off of his leather belt, handing it to her, "I got you something: a little farewell gift."

She pulled the golden cords that kept it closed to reveal a small silver bracelet studded with emeralds and adorned with Nordic symbols. Her eyes widened as she examined it.

"If you ever miss me on your travels, I thought this could help remind you," he explained, rubbing his wrists. "Even if you don't miss me, just don't forget about me, okay?"

She threw her arms around him, clasping the bracelet in her hand, "Of course I will miss you. I won't forget about you, either. I promise."

She let go, backing away a step, "Thank you, Loki. Keep practicing your magic."

"Freyja!" a man called from the ship. "We must leave now. Your father is waiting."

"Just six years, write to me!" she said before turning and running up the ramp.

Loki watched sadly as she disappeared into the plane.

And Tony was plunged once more into the fray of colors and shapes that swirled into chaos before solidifying into something new.

He was now in an empty hall that looked as if it was made of gold and copper. Silver pillars lined the edges, looking as if they were only for decoration. Freyja, now about nineteen, was leaning against one of the pillars, wearing a brown leather tunic, pants, jerkin and boots, as she watched Loki fight a few other Asgardians.

Several different hues of a smoke-like substance trailed from their fingertips and filled the room. Forest green mingled with navy blue, bright orange and canary yellow across the floors. Daggers of colored energy flashed through the air, either dodged or blocked by mentally created bubble-like shields.

"Alfons, you need to try to be quicker. You're barely avoiding becoming riddled with cuts," Freyja said over the din. "Kylan, you need to work on your aim. Keep both eyes open and your attacks will actually hit what you aim for. Magni, do try to be more creative with your attacks. A sorcerer never goes for the most obvious chance. And Loki-"

Loki turned to face her, but was thrown backwards by a ray of light. He fell to the floor, sliding to a stop ten feet away.

"For the sake of Yggdrasil, pay attention to what you're doing!" she exclaimed exasperatedly. "How many times must I tell you, never take your mind off the task at hand? Also, Kylan, that was an excellent shot. Much better."

"Forgive me," Loki said as he stood up. "I shall do better."

"I should hope so," she sighed.

_Out of all of my students, you have the most potential. You are creative, daring, methodical, and willing to vary your style at any moment. If you weren't so easily distracted, you would be a master by now._

Tony frowned as her voice echoed through his head, knowing that Loki also heard. A small smile crossed his face making his green eyes shine.

The fight continued, this time more chaotically as each one tried to follow her instructions. Freyja grinned, a defiant light in her eyes, and dug through a velvet pouch tied to her belt.

"Think fast," she called, tossing a small round object into the fray.

The little circle seemed to grow, parts of it unfolding, whirring, and rotating. Loki's eyes widened as he caught sight of the orb. He kicked it to the side with his foot, but a burgundy-haired young man picked it up and tossed it at the blonde with a bowl cut. The third, a twenty-year-old with a shaved head tossed a knife at it in midair.

"No!" Freyja yelled, throwing her hand out.

The orb was suddenly back in her hand, the knife embedded deep into the surface. It ticked angrily as if it was alive. She tossed it up into the air where it exploded, filling the air with gray smoke.

With the flick of her wrist, silver coils of wind blew the smoke out the door and windows.

"Alfons, that was not what I meant when I said to quicken your reflexes. If this had been a true fight, you would have killed everyone. The rest of you, good job, but remember to what I said. See-act-think might work in regular battle but if you're up against a sorcerer, you're going to need to think before you act. Dismissed."

The four bowed, panting, before Kylan, Alfons and Magni left the room. Loki walked over to Freyja, a thin sheen of sweat across his face and neck.

"Did you truly mean that?"

She laughed, "Of course. I will never understand why Asgardians only think of the consequences after their actions have been committed."

"Not that. I meant about me having the most potential."

She nodded, "You will be ready to face the Council within a fortnight."

"The Council?" he seemed worried.

"I'll accompany you, to give you some last wisdoms."

"Are they truly as intimidating as you say?"

She considered this, "Believe you me, they are unlike anyone you have ever met."

And the scene caved in on itself as it transformed again. He was now on a large slab of glass or diamond that flickered with various colors. The stars surrounded him on all sides, but he could see the golden buildings of the city to his right and a golden dome-shaped building to his left. Loki and Freyja sat on the edge of the slab, legs dangling over the edge. The only light came from the full moon.

"Tell me again your story of the stars," Loki said softly.

Freyja laughed, "Do you never tire of hearing it? I must have told you a dozen times now."

"I never tire of you telling it. You are a very good story-weaver."

"What if I told you a different story?"

"One I haven't heard?" he raised his eyebrows. "Alright."

"Long before the Nine Realms were created, the stars walked their vast world in solitude. There was peace, but not all were content. There was Yvainne, who had her heart stolen from her so she could not feel anything, and Tristan, who did not shine as brightly as the other stars because he did not have their silver hair and eyes."

"This story sounds familiar," he laughed.

"Don't interrupt," she mock scolded.

"Forgive me, do continue."

"Yvainne and Tristan met at one of the celebrations  
that were common during the time of the stars. Yvainne had never seen a star like Tristan, and he had never seen a woman so empty."

"Was she beautiful beyond compare?"

"Only in his eyes, she did not see herself as beautiful as everyone claimed. He tried to pursue her and she allowed him, making the other stars question her taste in men. He even recovered her heart.

"But it was cold and hollow from misuse and she was confused at the new emotions. He aided her in her adaption to such feelings."

"Did she enjoy them?"

"Yes, she loved the new sensations that he had opened her to. But Yvainne's father would not allow her to court him."

"So what did they do?"

"They continued to be friends in public and lovers in the night. The other stars started to see that he was beginning to shine brighter. He burned with a light that was unlike anything they had ever seen. They were happy together."

"What happened in the end?"

She shrugged, "I know not, their story has yet to end."

"Hmm. Shall we create an end for them?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well, perhaps Tristan had a brother. Clive, maybe. He knew about the two, and wished them to be happy."

"What did Clive do to help them?"

Loki looked away from the stars then, into her eyes, "He helped them escape unnoticed."

"What?!" Freyja backed away slightly, looking at him seriously. "They ran away?"

"Why not? Do they not deserve to be together?"

She sighed, "They deserve to be accepted."

There was silence, before Loki said, "You forgot to mention that Yvainne was the reason Tristan shone so brightly after."

"Did I? I also forgot to mention how handsome Tristan truly was."

"Did you mention that Yvainne's idea of what makes a man attractive is a little off?"

"Only to those around her," she pointed out.

"And to Tristan," he laughed.

She shook her head, "But she did not want a perfect man. Nor did she want a man simple because he was wealthy and of her status. She wanted the little imperfections that made him who he was."

He looked slightly confused, "I agree with the rest of the stars. Yvainne's taste was not up to par. Perhaps she was dropped on her head when she was a child…"

Freyja shoved him playfully, pretending to be offended.

The scene shifted, this time Tony didn't feel so nauseated by the change. Was he getting used to the transitions?

This time he was in a long hall made of marble. A tall, thin man with blue-black skin and pale blue eyes sat on a large throne made of marble. He was oddly proportioned as if someone had stretched too far, leaving him angular and skeletal. His black hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck. In front of him stood a similar being, this one a girl.

She was tall, slender and angular as well, but her skin was a shade paler than the man's. Her eyes were a surreal hue of electric blue that shone with a brightness that was not present in the man's. Both shared the same gaunt look as if their skin had been wrapped taut around their bodies. The appearance would have left any other creature looking emaciated, and yet the two looked more regal and enchanting because of it.

When the woman spoke, it was Freyja's voice that left her lips.

"You wished to see me, Father?"

"It is time you receive your birthright."

Surprise painted her face, "Birthright? I don't understand what you are speaking of."

"It was decided at the end of the Æsir-Vanir war that a certain object would be held and guarded by the more suitable of my children. Until the Council decided which of my children was the correct choice, it was Odin who was to hold it."

"What object do you mean?"

He waved his hand towards the table, motioning for her to look. She walked quickly towards the table and pulled off the velvet cover to reveal the Tesseract. Her eyes widened.

"Is this-?"

"Yes. The Council has decided you are the more suitable to protect it. Be warned, if this falls into the wrong hands, it will mean the destruction of the Nine Realms."

"Ragnarok," she whispered.

"You must never let that happen, do you understand?"

"I do."

"Then you must take the sacred oaths, as the Protectors before you have."

She nodded, walking back to the center of the room and kneeling before the man. When she bowed her head, he began to speak once more.

"Do you, Freyja Njorddottir, swear on your life and soul to protect your charge with every fiber of your body and mind?"

"I swear," she said, coils of gray smoke trailed down from his palms and curled around her to weave what looked like ropes restraining her.

"Do you swear to uphold these expectations, no matter the consequence or situation?"

"I swear," the coils tightened, her eyes shining silver now.

"Do you swear to give your life to protect what must never fall into the hands of those who wish to abuse the power within?"

"I swear," the coils looked more like chains now and Tony wondered if they hurt.

"Do you swear to sacrifice everything, no matter what the cost?"

"I swear, on my life, my soul, my mind, and my world. I will not fail."

Swirls of color, shadows of shapes, waves of garbled sound. Tony watched as he fell through all of it into something new. He was in a large bedroom with titanium floors and walls. Powder blue curtains hung over the windows, light flooding in through the opening where they met.

Freyja sat on the bed in a white chemise next to someone else, stretching. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing back the red curls, and smiled. She turned slightly to look at the man next to her.

Tony walked around to see who it was and stopped in surprise.

Freyja ran her fingers up the pale skin of his arm, smiling as she couldn't believe he was there. Her hand reached his face where his ebony hair was splayed out and messy. She brushed a few strands out of his face and stood up. She walked over to the vanity and dug through the drawers until she found a silk drawstring bag.

Carefully picking out a few objects that looked like crushed seeds, she moved towards the window and opened the curtain to reveal a balcony. She stood, slowly chewing the seeds, and gazed out into the myriad of gold and silver towers beyond the crystal window.

Loki sat up where he lay in bed and got up slowly. Tony was forced to avert his eyes until the prince tied the sheets around his waist. He then walked across the room towards Freyja. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, kissing the curve where her neck met her shoulders.

"Good morning, love," he whispered. "How was your night?"

She smiled, "Unexpected."

"In a good way?"

"Perhaps," she gave him a sly look and he grinned.

"What is that you're eating?" he asked, his face turning serious.

"Bird's Nest."

He closed his eyes, "I am an extraordinary fool. The idea did not occur to me that-"

"It doesn't matter," she said. "It occurred to me. Besides, I would not take back my actions."

He smiled again, "I would not either. In fact, I just might-"

Something went wrong then. The memory ripped apart as if someone was tearing it at the seams. Tony felt as if his head would split in two.

When he opened his eyes, he was back in Freyja's room. Unfortunately, so was Freyja. Her eyes blazed in anger as she grasped his shoulder too tightly. Something about the woman was frightening in a way Tony had yet to register.

"What in the name of Hel are you doing with this?" she yelled, tossing the cloak onto the bed.

"Uh…Well, I-"

"What did you see?"

He stuttered incoherently, trying to back away, "Nothing, I didn't-"

"Do not lie to me. What question did you hold?"

She was furious beyond reason, coils of her silver aura snaking around him. As he scrambled for words, something he hadn't needed to do in a long time, he wondered if this time he had gone too far.

"What did you see?" she demanded.

He pulled away from her grasp, stepping back to keep away, "If you didn't want me to know something, you shouldn't have hid it."

"What is wrong with you?" she yelled. "Is it customary for a host to search through his guest's belongings? Do you not respect one's privacy here? Is it too much to ask for you to stay out of my private life?"

"Not when you're sleeping with the enemy."

Freyja turned red in the face, but Tony was ninety-three percent sure it wasn't because she was embarrassed.

"Get out," she hissed through her teeth.

"But-"

"GET OUT!"

He didn't need to be told again, she looked as if she would blow a fuse at any moment. Despite his careless attitude, he knew it would be beyond stupid to stay in the same room with an angry woman who could tear his mind in two. He wasn't suicidal.

He walked out as quickly as possible without running, wondering what Freyja would do now that her hour of meditation had gone to waste.


	10. Chapter 9: Charlatan's Game

_"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."_

_ -Oscar Wilde_

* * *

Thor was surprised when the elevator doors opened up to Bruce Banner rather than Tony Stark.

"Where is Stark? I thought he was to keep an eye on Freyja?"

Bruce smiled apologetically, "Well…there was a bit of a mishap a couple days ago."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure on the details since Freyja refuses to tell me and Tony has just given me the basics and says to wait, but it sounds like Freyja found him snooping around in her room and got angry."

Thor frowned, "That is unlike her, she has always been level-headed."

"Not from what Tony said. He's been away since it happened; he said something about a cloak…"

"Not Freyja's cloak?"

Bruce nodded, "I think that's what he said."

"A fool he was to try to delve into her memories, though wise to stay away after."

He glanced outside at Freyja, who sat, as per usual, on the overhang. She looked relatively peaceful, but he had never seen her any other way until recently. He had grown up with stories of the mighty Vanir who had the power to kill without weapons and the strength to hold back. Quite frankly, her recent temper frightened him and yet he knew she would never do anything to hurt someone intentionally.

"How long has she been out?"

"Two hours, but there is something…strange that you might want to know about."

"What is it, Banner?"

"Thirty minutes ago, I went to check on her and she wasn't breathing."

Recognition flared in his blue eyes, "Are you sure?"

"Completely."

He stared out the window at her figure once more, knowing that her mind was not there. He was right, she was with Loki again.

She was glad to see that he was no longer to be gagged or bound but his unruly hair bothered her greatly. He had always been neat and orderly when she had known him. Now he had a sickly pallor to his skin, his eyes were sunken in and ringed with dark circles, he was thinner than usual as well, all of it making him look slightly wild.

But it was his eyes that hurt her every time she looked into them. The emerald green eyes that had once been filled with so much humor, so much light, and often gave a silent warning when he was up to something were now dark and smoldering. She missed the times they had gotten into trouble, always looking out for each other and sticking up for the other when one had gotten caught. Now, there was only sadness and longing that burned dimly like embers.

He wasn't pleading for her to return to Asgard at the moment, giving her a break from the indecision that pained her. Instead, he had listened intently as she recalled everything that had happened since she left Asgard. She was happy to see that he was still sympathetic towards her, still openly understanding and accepting all she had done even if he didn't agree with it. It was his support that strengthened her. He had always helped her through rough times, even if it meant simply listening.

"What happened to you when I left?" she asked when she had finished.

He looked away, "Thor has told you. Why must you ask me, as well?"

"I want to hear it from you," she answered. "Stories are never exactly the same from both views."

A sigh, "I tried to go after you not long after you left. I rode back to Heimdall to demand he open the Bifrost. I didn't care that I might die as well, it didn't matter that Heimdall would not reopen the portal once I was there. I was just halfway across the bridge when the explosion occurred.

"I was knocked off my horse. The blast could be felt in Niflheim, I was told. I felt as if I had died myself that day, I became no more than an empty shell with no purpose. Thor brought me back to the palace, but it did no good.

"I could not make myself eat, I could not sleep. I sat on my balcony for weeks on end, doing nothing but looking out on the city that continued mercilessly. The only ones who seemed to be affected were the few Vanir that stayed. I think Mother must have given up on attempting to persuade me to leave my chambers.

"It was only when I heard a disturbance in your chambers that I left. Some of the servants were emptying it of your belongings. I lost my temper, yelling at them to leave your chambers in peace. I realized then that no matter what happened, life would go on, and you would have wanted me to continue as well."

He paused, eyes a million miles away. She wondered what she would feel if she ever lost him in such a way.

"I tried to return to my daily routine, but it wasn't the same. Nevertheless, I took your last advice and watched out for Thor. You wouldn't believe the mishaps he would get us into, always leaving me to come up with a solution.

"I trained a little more in Asgardian battle techniques, perfected my accuracy with bows and knives, and worked to create new spells. Time flew quickly, and I found it wasn't long before it was Thor's coronation.

"But Thor was arrogant and reckless at the time, and Asgard needed a king with more wisdom. So I created an opportunity for a few Jotunns to enter the Vault. They nearly reached the Casket, but the Destroyer took care of them."

She shuddered at the thought of the Destroyer, another creation of the Vanir that had been abused at the hands of others. Odin and Njord had finally come to the agreement of only using it for protection of Odin's treasures.

"Thor did not take it well, and he soon talked us into going to Jotunheim to confront Laufey."

"Fools, all of you, for doing such," she said, shaking her head. "I would have never let you undergo such madness."

"Perhaps, but Thor was Hel-bent on the idea. He angered Laufey, but I managed to persuade him into allowing us to leave. We would have left peacefully, had one of his guards not insulted Thor."

"What did he say?" she sighed.

"I believe his exact words were 'run home, little princess'. A small battle ensued, Fandral and Vostagg were both wounded. It was then that I began to doubt my ancestry."

"What conceived the idea?"

"When I was slaying one of the Giants, he gripped my arm. His touch broke through my armor, but turned my skin Jotun blue. When we returned, Thor was banished to Midgard.

"You know what happened in the Vault. Father fell into the Odinsleep from the stress and Mother offered me the crown in his absence.

"You know what it is to be abandoned by your father. Laufey had left me to die in his temple and Odin lied to me, I also finally realized why I could never have you."

"By our laws, no Vanir shall forge a bond with a being of the other races besides the Æsir. The consequences are far too great," she sighed.

He nodded, "I suddenly knew why I never belonged among the warriors of Asgard as well. I knew why I was not Thor's equal, why I would never be worthy in Njord's or Odin's eyes. I wanted to repay Laufey for the ruin he created in my life, and what better way to prove my worth than to kill Odin's enemy?

"I found that Sif and the Warriors Three had gone to Earth to bring Thor back, and knew he would stop what I had set in motion. I allowed Laufey the opportunity to enter Asgard and attempt to slay Odin, but killed him before he could. Thor returned despite my sending the Destroyer.

"I attempted to destroy Jotunheim, to destroy the reason I could never have what I wanted. It was Jotunheim that kept me from being a true Asgardian, kept me from having a true birthright, kept me from having you. I would have annihilated everything that kept happiness at bay. But Thor would not allow me.

"I fought him on the Bifrost, keeping him from stopping the obliteration of those monsters. But he broke through it, creating an explosion that demolished the Observatory and more than half of the bridge.

"We nearly fell into the vortex that was created, but Odin caught Thor by the ankle. I was holding on only by Gungnir, held up by Thor. I tried to explain to them, tried to justify my actions, but Odin spurned my attempts. I allowed myself to fall, knowing there was no future for me in Asgard. At least, I thought, I had you to greet me in death."

She shook her head, "Thank the Wise One he spared you. Your death would have brought nothing but more sorrow."

"I cannot say when I lost consciousness, but I awoke to the Other. He offered me a kingdom of my own, my own redemption, in exchange for the Tesseract. You must believe me when I say that I knew not that it was the object that you had guarded for so long until it was far too late. Its power had already consumed me.

"Influenced by the Tesseract, I relished the idea of molding a world to my own whims. I would have created a perfect world, one where none would have to fear being torn away from what made them happy. I once said that it is the truth that all beings crave subjugation. It was not a lie."

"You crave subjugation?"

He looked at her fully, "Yes. Subjugation comes in many forms, and I am prey to a particular type."

His whispers lingered in the silence and she knew, deep down, it was at least partially true. The fact was that the form of 'subjugation' he craved, that they both were ensnared by, was subject to interpretation. She found it both liberating and constraining.

"My army was quickly overpowered, and I was left defenseless after…a fairly potent attack."

"Thor?"

"If only."

She looked surprised, "You can tell me, Loki. I will not hold anything against you."

"I do not wish to talk about it."

A small grin crept across her lips, "Wounded pride is no reason to hide something."

"It has nothing to do with my pride," he muttered.

"Loki Odinson, you and I both know you are lying."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? It is who you are."

Bitterness tainted his words suddenly, "I am not Odin's son."

"You are not Laufeyson, either," she pointed out. "What name pleases you? Son-of-none?"

He was silent.

"Loki Son-of-none…" she mused. "That sounds utterly ridiculous and so long that it borders on tedious."

He smiled, "Perhaps I should simply be Loki Silver-tongue."

"It suits you, I suppose. Although I am not particularly fond of it, I must say."

"What would you have me called?"

"Hmm…I see no reason why you cannot simply be Loki and I Freyja. Neither of us seems to have a suitable name, so let us merely be ourselves."

"And it does not bother you that I am of Jotun blood?"

"Why should it? I am not of Asgardian blood, this is not what I truly look like. I am not fully a Vanir, either. Would you scorn me for it?"

"Of course not," he answered, his jaw set stubbornly.

"Does it matter that your skin is truly blue when mine is, in reality, a shade darker? You have spent these last years thinking in the ridiculous fashion that Asgardians do. Differences are illusions of the mind, made to set absurd standards on what is suitable. Dispel such nonsensical thoughts from your mind. What would you think of me if I refused to acknowledge you simply because of your blood?"

"I would think you a royal hypocrite."

She laughed, "And I would rightly deserve it."

He took her hand, his cool fingers wrapping comfortably around her own.

"Will you not return to Asgard?"

"Why do you plead with me so?"

"Because, when all is said and done, you are the only one to understand and accept all that I do, wicked or virtuous."

She closed her eyes to escape the imploring look in his eyes. He was the only one who could break her heart and put it back together within minutes.

"And if I chose to return, what am I to do? Court you through iron bars?"

"I admit, it is not an agreeable situation."

"It is not a _feasible_ situation."

"Please," he whispered.

She groaned, "Do you realize how difficult it is to say no when you beseech me in such manner?"

"Do _you_ realize that there is no difficulty in saying yes?"

She lost her patience, letting the images of the future that would come true if she returned flood into his head. He froze, a look of mortification on his face as he saw the possibilities.

"If I return, Ragnarok will become reality."

"I understand," he said, closing his eyes. "So long as I can at least speak with you, I will not go mad in this cell."

She placed a hand against the side of his face, "I will visit you again. I must, however, leave now."

"Return soon," he said, taking her hand from his face and kissing it.

A smile crossed his face as he noticed his emerald ring on her hand, "You kept it."

"I could not part with it. It has, indeed, brought me good fortune."

"And may it always. Farewell, love."

"Take care, Loki."

And she was back on the overhang of Stark Tower. She stood up and walked inside. Thor sat on the couch, much to her surprise, waiting for her to come in.

"Visiting someone, were you?"

She was surprised, "What is your reason for saying such?"

"Banner says you were not breathing."

She arched an eyebrow, "I was not aware you knew the signs of mental projection."

"Is it not astral projection?"

"Astral projection is when one projects an unmoving or completely mirrored image of themselves while very aware of their surroundings; mental projection is the separation of one's mind from the body to create a realistic projection elsewhere."

"What happened between you and Stark?"

"I-"

The door to the elevator opened and out walked Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Clint. Tony raised an eyebrow at the sight of Thor.

"Who invited He-Man?"

Thor, Freyja and Steve looked confused while Natasha and Clint rolled their eyes. Bruce was the only one to speak up.

"No one, he just dropped in."

"Freyja's not in the mood for visitors, I thought," Tony glanced at Freyja.

"He has done nothing to antagonize me, therefore I have no quarrel with him."

"I thought I'd do something to make up for that," he said roguishly, holding up a few bottles of liquor.

"I'm not drinking that again," she said sharply.

"Again?" Thor demanded. "You were drinking with Stark?"

She sat on the couch, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes, "Thor, I swear on my life, if you reprimand me about the subject, you will do nothing but sour my already unpleasant disposition."

He grit his teeth, not saying anything in reply. Steve sat down next to her while Clint and Natasha sat on the bar.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"I've been in higher spirits," she answered, her eyes weary.

"What-"

"I've been meaning to ask," Tony interrupted, "what do your people do at parties? You can't drink without getting wasted, you don't have a sense of humor, what could possibly entertain you?"

"The Vanir are not-"

"Parties are very seldom among my people," she said as she cut Thor off. "But, when we did hold a festival of sorts, we had music, dancing, games, and drinks of our own that are not as strong."

"Games such as…?" he continued.

"We excel in riddles, thus our amusements are composed of conundrums. Although a variety of card games were popular, as well."

"Sounds boring," Natasha noted.

"They are to most," Thor said. "There was one that was popular among all: Seer-of-Pasts. Freyja was exceptionally proficient at playing."

"What are the rules?" Steve asked.

"I attempt to guess your past by reading through your aura. It is not particularly interesting."

"You can guess a person's past by their aura?" Bruce asked.

"You can tell many things from a person's aura, be it their past, personality or mood."

"Sure," Natasha said softly.

"You're authoritative, intuitive, controlling to a certain degree, and matriarchal in the sense that you are one of the dominant members of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Freyja said, looking at her through the corner of her eyes. "Shall I continue?"

Natasha hissed something incoherent while Clint laughed, "Keep going. I want to hear this."

"You have a difficult past that you grapple with even now, a dark shadow that influences your every choice. You were no more than a pawn since you were young, but changed when Clint Barton came into your life. Your assassin-turned-savior has been tied closely with your life ever since.

"That is a loose interpretation. I could dwell deeper, but I will keep to the boundaries if it pleases you."

"What do you see about me?" Clint asked, turning around in his chair.

She looked him up and down for a second, "Navy blue is your dominant shade, making you thoughtful, organized, and precise, but you tend to dwell on the loss of innocents. Your past was not enjoyable, either. You lost your parents early in your life, and ran away from false homes with your brother. You learned archery and were soon recruited into S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Not bad," he said, holding up a drink.

"It seems we all have had difficult pasts," she noted. "With the exception of Thor, of course."

"I have not had an easy childhood," the thunder god protested.

"You were the spoiled crowned prince of Asgard," she laughed. "Do tell me how your life was not one of luxury."

"I put up with many of you and Loki's practical jokes while growing up."

"You say this as if we strung you up by your ankles and hung you from the North Tower."

"You did," he pointed out.

"That was Loki."

"You gave him the idea."

"As a joke!" she said, trying not to laugh. "How was I to know he would take me as serious?"

"How did that happen," Bruce asked.

"Thor sleeps as soundly as the dead, Loki simply had to use a spell I taught him."

"You and Loki were friends?" Clint asked.

She shrugged, "He was different then, much easier to get along with."

"What about me?" Bruce asked. "What do you see in my past?"

"Your aura is an interesting one, it lacks a dominant color. But, form what I can discern, you are diligent, practical, grounded, and a little self-deprecating. You have dedicated your life to science, as well as self-control. Despite your modesty, you are much more important than you believe."

"You're wrong."

She looked at Tony, "Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"I had a very pleasant past," he said, taking a swig of the dark amber liquid in his glass.

She scrutinized him, "You must be the easiest person to read. You are an open book, both in aura and identity. You are optimistic, analytical, intelligent, and creative, but you lack self-discipline and tend to state your opinion without thought of whom you rile. You are immature and partial to the physical pleasures of life.

"Conceit and bias taint your actions, making you more vexatious than Thor once was. Not only do you think only of yourself, but you have the insatiable need to dwell in other's privacy as well. One day, your curiosity will be your undoing."

He smiled, "Not bad, but I would like to guess _your _past."

"Stark-"

She held up her hand to silence Thor, "Be wary of where you stick your nose, lest someone shut the door on it."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, looking straight at her before starting.

"As princess of Vanaheim, you lived a life of luxury. But, you were not happy, so you left for Asgard."

"I was to visit Asgard despite the fact I chose to reside there. At twelve, we are sent to Alfheim, Niflheim, Jotunheim, and Asgard for a year and a half as part of our coming-of-age ritual. After my journey, I became the Vanaheim ambassador in Asgard," she corrected.

"So you were unhappy with your life, anyway. You became ambassador in Asgard where you were forced to look into marrying various men that didn't suit you. You quickly became friends with a man there, sneaking out at night to meet with him. The friendship grew into something stronger, but your father didn't approve. You were forced to continue your romance in secret."

"I was friends with him before I was ambassador."

Everyone was listening silently now as the two went back and forth in their story.

"Right. Your father didn't approve because his people were the enemy of yours. This is where it gets fuzzy, as he's Asgardian but you said your people were close to the Asgardians but you also said that your father didn't approve because of what he was."

"Pay no mind to this part, it does naught but confuse the spectator."

"You were completely taken by this man, giving him everything. But he has changed now, and not in the good way. You are afraid of what others would think if they knew who you love. His connection with you would make us doubt your loyalties. I don't think even you know how far you'd go for him."

"There is a line that should not be crossed," she warned.

"We all know this man, we've seen his actions. He is malicious and all around crazy. None of us can stand the sight of the man and all of us have a bone to pick except Thor, here. The only question is what you see in him. What quality could Loki possibly have that could win you over so much that you'd screw him?"

The air was thick with the silence that followed Tony's query. Freyja stood up, face red in anger. Tony stood his ground as she glared at him, silently daring her to do something. She bit her lip to keep from moving while everyone's eyes were on her. She looked at the stares, acknowledging each one. Condemnations from Natasha, disgust from Clint, regret from Thor, accusation from Tony, disbelief from Bruce and surprise from Steve. She could feel the suspicion from all sides, and the loathing even more. She was revolted at the idea that they reviled her for something so simple.

"Two words, Mr. Stark: fidelity and trust."

With that, she turned and walked stiffly to her room and slammed the door shut behind her. Thor walked after her, banging on the door.

Steve watched as Natasha, Clint and Bruce questioned Tony about how he found out. They seemed disgusted at her feelings, but he couldn't seem to muster anything negative about Freyja. He had heard both her and Thor describe how Loki was before, and he could somewhat relate to what they had told him. On top of that, everything she had told him when they had walked through the streets made Loki seem almost understandable.

It seemed unfair to despise her simply because she fell in love with a man who had made her happy. She had never shown any reason to mistrust her besides hiding her attraction to Loki, but that was understandable. If anything, he thought that maybe Freyja could help Loki redeem himself. What did disgust him, though, was the way Tony had told everyone.

Tony had known that she was uncomfortable with sharing her more intimate relationship with everyone, and Steve could see why. He had known that it wasn't something she had wanted to share, and yet the self-claimed genius had given it to everyone. Who did he think he was to tell everyone about her love life? Then again, Steve knew the answer to that question. Tony was Tony, he would do whatever he wanted and step on anyone he pleased.

Thor walked back into the main room angrily, pointing an accusing finger at Stark, "Why must you incriminate her in such a foul way? Is it not enough to antagonize her by searching through her memories?"

"Why did she hide it?"

"She was afraid of the distrust she would face."

"Don't we have a reason to? How closely tied is she to the fruit loop?"

"Do not speak of my brother in such a manner!"

Steve stood up and walked down the hall towards Freyja's door as Clint said something about Loki being a murderer. He gathered up his courage and knocked lightly on the door.

"I am no mood to speak, Thor! Leave me be!"

"It's not Thor, it's Steve."

"Here to patronize me for my choice, are you? I can tell you, I am not in the mood to silently accept your criticism."

"Actually, I just want to see if you're okay," he admitted. "May I come in?"

He waited in silence, listening for some sign of an answer. Then, he heard the sound he never expected to hear. The door clicked open.


	11. Chapter 10: Straight Answers

_"If you press me to say why I loved him, I can say no more than because he was he, and I was I."_

_ -Michel de Montaigne_

* * *

"I am in no mood to speak, Thor. Leave me be!" she called through the door in reply to the knocking.

She was not in a very stable condition at the moment. Her anger was skyrocketing at Tony's actions. She had just calmed down over his seeing her memories, and now he had thrown one of her secrets out for everyone to find. If she wasn't careful, she would blow a fuse and the outcome would not be pretty. The last thing she needed was Thor fanning the flames by accident, as was his specialty.

"It's not Thor," said a voice that was distinctly not the Asgardian prince. "It's Steve."

"Here to patronize me for my choice, are you?" she snapped irritably. "I can tell you, I am not in the mood to silently accept your criticism."

"Actually, I just want to see if you're okay," he replied quietly. "May I come in?"

It was surprising. She had expected him to chastise her on her relationship with Loki as she knew the others would. But, then again, he had accepted that she was friends with Loki and even understood her reasoning. If anyone was easy to talk to on Earth, it was Steve.

She unlocked the door, "I warn you now, I won't tolerate one wrong word."

"I don't blame you," he said, walking in and standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"You may sit down if you wish," she said, gesturing to the bed.

She leaned against the wall, waiting for what he had to say.

"Are you alright?"

"Why would I not be?"

He looked at her squarely, his pale blue eyes meeting hers, "After what Tony did, I know I wouldn't be handling it as well as you are."

"I'm not."

He blinked in confusion.

"I'm not handling it as well as I seem to be," she clarified.

Silence stretched between them as neither knew what to say next. Steve broke the emptiness after what seemed like an eternity.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Why did I do what?"

"Hide it from everyone."

She crossed her arms, "You saw how everyone reacted. Loki is no more than a monster in their eyes, and I no more than a traitor for loving him."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to tell everyone?"

Her eyes flashed angrily, "And lose the small amount of trust I had here? After what Loki did to everyone here, anyone who feels anything towards him besides anger and disgust is an enemy."

"Nobody thinks that about Thor."

"Thor is different. Loki was his brother, they were family. What Loki did here was wrong, that I cannot deny, but I cannot find it in myself to scorn him for his decisions."

"Why is that?"

"Loki is somewhat impulsive, it's a common trait in Asgard. On top of that he is, to put it bluntly, not the most emotionally stable. His childhood was spent in the shadow of Thor's 'perfection'. The only people to treat him as if he was equal to everyone else were myself and his mother. Even Odin did not treat him the same as Thor. In consequence, he has the unappeasable need to prove himself.

"He does not like to show it, but it eats him alive that he will never meet his father's standards, nor anyone else's. His drive to prove himself to the world only clouds his judgment further. He has changed so much, grief and anger twisting his every thought and motive to the point that it dictates his life. All of these combined, and he is a chemical mixture that can explode at any moment.

"I know what drives him to such madness, I know what keeps him on the fault line between redemption and demise. I know him better than I know myself, and I can't find it in me to hate him for his actions. I challenge you to put yourself in his situation and tell me truthfully that you would not have lost your mind."

He shook his head, "I can't do that."

"And why not?"

He smiled, seeing her point, "Because it wouldn't be the truth."

"It seems you are the only human to understand this. The rest refuse to look at the aspects of his life and acknowledge what he's felt, judging him only by his faults. The same is said about me. Thus is the way of the world: people simply prefer to ignore what they do not wish to see."

She lay down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Steve watched her and wondered at how complex, and yet so simple, she was. She had apparently gone through things that had affected her greatly, and yet all she wanted was someone to listen.

"Why did you fall?"

"Why did I fall for Loki?"

He nodded, "What do you see in him?"

She sighed, "It is impossible to pinpoint specific traits one loves about another. Loki and I were good friends to begin with, simply because we had what the other wanted. I had never experienced emotion, and felt as if I was missing something I could not name. Besides, we both felt distinctly different from our people.

"Before Loki, my life was a dark room that could only be opened through a locked door, lit only by the dim glow of a candle. He was the one who unlocked the door so I may see sunlight for the first time. Sometimes, I feel as if I have been blind since.

"I suppose, if I had to say what I saw in him, I would say that he was everything I was not. He was sensitive, passionate, vivacious, comical, rebellious, and unrestricted. I was subjugated, detached, obedient, monotonous and lackluster. What _he_ saw in _me_ is something I doubt I will ever find out."

"So you still love him?" he said, unable to help himself. "Even after all he's done?"

"Of course, although I do not understand it myself. I have every reason to despise him, an endless list of why I should scorn him, and yet I cannot help but love him. Despite all he has done wrong, I still see the broken soul when I look at him, and I cannot find any contempt towards him."

"Like when you find an abused puppy that bites you," he muttered to himself thoughtfully.

She gave him a pointed look.

"Sorry, just kinda rambling to myself."

"Do not think that I feel no guilt because of how I feel. I have never felt so conflicted in my life. My love for Loki even after all he has done compels me to ignominy, and yet that makes me feel worse.

"On top of this, I have Thanos to worry about. No matter what path I take the results are always the same: either the worlds are lost or I spend the rest of eternity on the run to keep the worlds from being destroyed. I don't know what to do, I'm second-guessing all of my decisions-"

And then she broke off into another language that Steve couldn't understand. It had been hard enough to keep up with what she was saying in English since she had been gaining speed, but this was impossible. The language she now spoke was lilting and rhythmic, as if it was more along the lines of music than speech, and something about it seemed powerful. The air seemed to crackle as if the words did hold a certain power within them. He partially didn't want to stop her.

"Okay, the first thing you need to do is calm down. You're working yourself up and, frankly, I can't help you if you don't speak English."

She stopped, thinking, "I did not realize I wasn't, forgive me."

"Don't worry about it. What were you saying?"

"I was simply wondering out loud if my father was right…"

"Your father?"

"I disowned him a few months before Vanaheim was destroyed."

"You disowned your father?"

She shrugged unhappily, "He and I did not agree on many things. He tried to force me into a marriage I did not wish to be in, he also believed emotions to be destructive and passed a law that banned them. Then I found he had indirectly lied to me about my mother, and- Let's leave it at we didn't get on as well as we should have."

He raised his eyebrows, "Sounds like the kind of guy I wouldn't get along with, either."

She smiled, "No, you would not have gotten along with him, and he wouldn't have approved of you. But, then again, Father never did approve of my choices in lifestyle, actions, or friends…"

"So, he didn't approve of Loki, either?"

A small laugh escaped her lips, "Not in the least. He claimed that Loki was a bad influence on me, that he would corrupt me. I think what led to that conclusion was that he never forgave Loki for stealing his scepter."

"Scepter? What scepter?"

"It is not the scepter Loki wielded whilst here," she said. "It was a scepter forged by the dwarves of Niflheim as a gift to my father; my necklace also came from the dwarves, but it was a gift to my mother.

"It was six and a half feet of the purest titanium, which we use as a conductor and catalyst for magic, and topped with a large sapphire the size of your fist. It had the ability to maximize the wielder's strength tenfold and offer protection under any circumstances. I fear it was lost in the destruction of Vanaheim…"

"How was Vanaheim destroyed?"

"I do not know. If I had to wager, I would say that the amount of auric energy used during the battle encumbered our technologies and caused the systems to overload and eventually explode."

He raised his eyebrows and was silent for a minute, thinking about all she had said. A few things still didn't quite match up, as if he was missing part of the picture.

"What was it you think your father was right about?"

"He told me once that love is destructive and useless. That one does not need love to live and those who live with it ruin their lives fretting over it."

"Why would he think that?"

"He spoke from personal experience, but the story is far too complicated."

He looked down at her impassive face, "Do you agree with him?"

She exhaled slowly, her strange electric blue eyes turning to look at him, "I'm not sure. I see his logic, as my life has not exactly gone well thus far. But I would not blame my problems on love, my predicaments stem from the Tesseract."

"Will you at least give me a hint of what's in it?"

"Knowledge and power, both beyond your wildest fantasies. It was a foolish mistake that I am paying dearly for."

"Why is it that you're the one suffering through this?"

"The reason is this," she pulled a thick titanium ring off her finger and offered it to him.

Steve picked up the ring, examining it as if it might give him a hint as to what she meant. It was strangely heavy, more along the lines of a ring you would see a man wear. Ornate, spiraling glyphs were embedded into the surface in gold.

"What does it say?"

"It says '_Custodi vires et sapientiam abscondita volunt'_."

"And that means…?"

"It is difficult to translate my language to yours, but I suppose it would be 'May you keep the strength and wisdom you need to guard our secrets'."

"But it's just a ring…"

"No," she said, replacing on her right middle finger. "It is a vow I took when I reached my twelfth name-day."

"Name-day?"

"The day I was born. Do you not have that here?"

He nodded, "We call it a birthday. Anyway, what's so special about some vow?"

"It is impossible for a Vanir to lie, thus our vows cannot be broken. It was decided by the Council that I was the more suitable heir to learn our secrets. I was taught everything we keep hidden from the rest of the worlds, and made to swear not to tell those who would abuse it."

"And your father allowed this?"

"Of course, his wife was the secret-keeper before she took her own life…"

"What?"

"It's complicated."

He turned completely to face her but she continued to stare at the ceiling, "So, let me get this straight. Your dad let you, a twelve-year-old at the time, take the responsibility of guarding all the secrets of the worlds? Even when he knew how much danger that would put you in?"

"I suppose the true question you ask is why he did this. The answer you seek is simple: he did not care. He could not put my brother, crowned prince and who he deemed to be the only true heir to the throne, in such danger. It was more convenient to leave such matters to his illegitimate daughter," she said venomously, a mixture of sadness and anger in her eyes. "It is another thing I share with Loki, our families are broken and dysfunctional."

"What's wrong with Loki's family? Thor has a lot of compassion for the guy."

"Thor was not always this way. When Odin showed preference towards Thor, he did nothing to make Loki's life happier. He emphasized the difference. Thor was arrogant, stubborn and vain once, and it was Loki who watched out for him. Only Frigga loved them both equally, often indulging in Loki's whims."

Silence filled the air again, as neither had anything left to say. Steve shifted awkwardly where he sat before Freyja startled him.

"What would you do?"

"What?"

"What would you do if you were in my position?"

"Umm…"

"I will have to leave shortly."

"What d'you mean?"

"I will have to leave Midgard within the next days, lest I bring destruction upon you."

"And you have to keep running?"

"There is no other choice. It is the life my father chose for me."

He got up and walked to the door, knowing there was nothing left to say, "I'm sorry that there's no alternative for you."

She smiled sadly, "You are one of the strangest and most bewildering men I have ever met. Thank you, for everything."

He smiled back, "You're welcome."

He left closed the door behind him and walked back to main room of the penthouse. Thor was still reprimanding Tony, but he wasn't paying attention.

"What were you doing for so long, Capsicle," he jeered. "Giving her a therapy session?"

Anger boiled up in Steve as Tony mocked both him and Freyja. Yeah, Loki wasn't on Steve's best friends list, but Freyja didn't deserve Tony's taunts. Especially after all she was dealing with.

"You're a bigoted ass, you know that?" he said, walking towards the bar.

Tony raised an eyebrow, "What's gotten your spandex in a knot?"

"How could you just throw Freyja under the bus like that?"

"Uh, easy. You can't say she didn't deserve it."

"She didn't, actually. And you would know this if you'd just ask her."

His eyebrows shot up higher, "And you've done this? Has she given you a straight answer?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, she did."

"So you know why she's so deluded by the creep-"

Thor slammed his fist down on the bar, denting the metal, "Do not speak of either in such a manner!"

Tony ignored him, "Why'd she tell you anything? She doesn't trust the rest of us, so why you?"

Steve was silent, trying to think of a reason. Why did she trust him enough to tell him more? Why was he the only one to know what she dealt with?

"Maybe she's gotten over Cirque-du-Freak and has a thing for you," he mused, grinning widely.

Steve flushed, "That's ridiculous."

"I don't trust her," Natasha muttered.

"What reasons have you to distrust her?" Thor demanded.

"She still has feelings for Loki, who's to say she won't help him if he asks? We don't even know her, she keeps too many secrets."

"Spoken like a true hypocrite," Tony laughed as he took a swig of his drink.

"Excuse me?" she hissed, standing up from her seat on the couch. "You wanna say that to my face?"

"I'm just saying that she's not the only one who keeps secrets, or the only one who's cryptic."

"And you're just Mr. Perfect, aren't you?"

"I never said that," he said before continuing quietly. "But I'm pretty damn close."

"You know what-"

"Okay!" Clint said, standing up and grabbing Natasha's wrist. "It's pretty late and we should all get going. Come on, Tasha, Fury will be irritated if we don't report back to base soon."

He half led her, half dragged her, into the elevator while giving Tony a look that told him to knock it off. The doors closed, leaving Bruce, Thor, Steve and Tony standing without anything to do or say.

"Yeah, I'd better get going, too…" Bruce said, inching his way towards the elevator after seeing the look Steve directed at Tony.

Once Bruce was gone, there was an empty silence between the three before Thor spoke up.

"I will return in the morning for Freyja," he said.

"What?" Tony asked, a mixture of confusion and laughter on his face.

"Allowing her to stay here was a mistake," he answered, walking towards the elevator.

"Wait up," Steve said. "I should leave, too."

Tony shrugged, "Suit yourselves. I'll just enjoy this baby by myself."

He refilled his glass while the two got into the elevator. Steve felt slightly squished in the small box with Thor, who took up a large amount of the space. He gazed at him, pale blue eyes taking him in.

"Why is it that Freyja let you speak with her? She refused to open the door when I asked."

Steve shrugged, "I don't know. I just told her I wanted to check if she was okay and she opened the door. I guess she just wanted to talk…"

"Freyja has never been one for talk, especially that of herself."

"I wish I had the answer, but I don't. She just seems to be more open around me."

"She sees something in you."

"What?" he turned to face Thor, surprised at the comment.

"She only trusts people she deems worthy, therefore she must see something in you that pleases her."

"I don't know. I'm nice, I guess…"

It even sounded pitiful out loud. But Steve couldn't think of what she could find so interesting about him. Sure, he was courteous and listened to what others had to say, but that sounded more like the reasons behind a kindergartener getting a gold star in class.

_You are one of the strangest and most bewildering men I have ever met._

_Maybe she's gotten over Cirque-du-Freak and has a thing for you._

The two sentences played over and over again in his head. Two fairly simple statements that could change in meaning simply by change of perspective. Then, much to his dismay, another thought started nagging at him. _Did_ she like him more than a friend?


	12. Chapter 11: Deadly Charm

**_Song of the Chapter: Heavy in Your Arms ~ Florence + the Machine_**

* * *

_"Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy."_

_ -F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

Freyja couldn't sleep, her head was too full with worries and memories. The responses of each of the Avengers had been less than satisfactory and she couldn't help wonder if she could have changed that. But by doing what? She couldn't force them to see Loki differently. Well, she could, but that would be wrong and it wouldn't truly be them.

Perhaps the solution had to do with Loki himself. Could she have changed the way he had gone? She knew the answer: yes. Frigga, Thor, and many others had always told her she was the only person who could make Loki feel as if he belonged. She was the only one who could sway his moods and talk him out of ridiculous schemes. She could have returned to Asgard, and helped him with the pain of the truth. But something worse would have happened had she returned.

Asgard, and ultimately Loki, would have been destroyed. She could never live with herself if that happened, she could barely cope with the fact that her own people were dead because of her.

Besides, she could never do that to Loki. He had given her something that no one else had. Before his love, he had given her his complete trust.

"Do you trust me?" an eleven-year-old Loki had once asked her.

She had looked into his emerald green eyes as if to look for a reason for the question.

"Why would I not?" she had replied.

And he had smiled.

Eight years later, he had received a real answer. She trusted him with her life, and it was the full truth. Then, the unexpected had happened: she saw him differently. She could not name what it was at the time, but something was different. The flash of his white teeth when he smiled, the shine of his deep green eyes when he laughed, the way he scrunched his nose when he was deep in thought, the way his fingers would subconsciously trace imaginary circles on a surface when he wasn't truly listening. Nothing had changed, and yet nothing was the same either. She didn't realize it was herself that was different.

A week after and she found that he too saw her differently as well. He knew her every habit, her every characteristic. He relished when her strange electric blue eyes shone with happiness, craved her smile and laughter, smiled as she bit her lip when facing a problem. Worse, he became oddly envious of the time she spent around the suitors her father had sent her way, even when he knew she felt nothing towards them. And she was not aware of this until he told her much later.

It was only a month before the Night of the Wolf when Freyja found out what had changed.

Loki had knocked lightly on her door in the still of the night, many hours after the festivities had ended. She had opened it quickly, sensing something was wrong. She nearly dropped the candle holder when she saw him.

His face was bruised and battered, blood running down from his nose as he held a filthy rag to it. His hair and clothes were disheveled, the leather torn in certain areas. His left eye was beginning to swell up, as well as his bottom lip. He looked as if he had fought an armada single-handedly and lost.

"By the Wise One," she whispered. "What happened?"

"May I come in? I need your aid," he muttered.

"I can see that," she answered, opening the door so he could come in.

As he limped past her, he exhaled in relief and she could smell ale on his breath. He had been drinking _and _brawling. She locked the door behind him and sat him down on the bed. She knew why he needed her to heal him. If he used magic in this state, it would kill him.

She tapped the hand holding the bloodied rag, gesturing for him to lower it. Much to her dismay, his nose was broken close to the bridge. Besides the bruises and scratches, nothing else was wrong with his face.

"Is it your face alone that took the brunt of the damage?"

"Not exactly," he winced, starting to unravel the strips of leather that were woven over his stomach.

"Don't," she warned. "I'll handle this."

She took off the leather trench coat he wore and continued to remove the strips from his hands, unraveling them as well as the strips of emerald green silk mixed in. Finally pulling back the last bits of chainmail and leather, she pulled up the black silk shirt underneath and sucked in a breath of surprise. He would have had less bruising if Thor had hit him with a tree. When she touched his cool skin she found it was far too tense, rigid from internal bleeding.

"What did you do?" she demanded, motioning for him to lie down.

"I found myself in a fight with Odr."

She nearly dropped his clothes in surprise at the name of her most persistent suitor. She looked him in the eye.

"You and I both know you do not simply 'find' yourself in a fight, Loki Odinson."

He smiled, "Alright, I may have landed the first blow."

"Damn you for your antics," she hissed, running her hands over his abdomen to heal the bleeding. "I keep quiet when you continue your relatively dangerous hoaxes, but must you also antagonize men to violence?"

"In reality, _he_ provoked _me_."

She glanced up at his face, her fingers trailing silver smoke. Peeling back the rest of his shirt, she searched for more wounds of any kind.

"Are you not going to ask me what he did?"

She sighed, "Do I truly want to know?"

"I do not see what your father approves of in Odr. He acts as if you are a prize to be won, it sickens me."

"You were offended by something he said," she guessed.

He looked at her solemnly, "He bragged to his friends that since your father approved of him so much, he would make you fall for him, bed you and leave you ruined for spite."

"Those are just words of a drunk, Loki," she muttered, but she felt disgusted that people spoke of her as if she were a piece of meat.

"He meant them," he whispered. "I felt it."

She sighed at his reasoning, "I don't need you getting hurt because you think you must defend my honor."

"If I do not, then who will?"

She looked away from his imploring green eyes, "I can defend it myself, thank you."

He winced as she moved her work to his mutilated face, "A person who does not fight cannot defend."

"No, a person who does not fight cannot attack. Now, stop moving or you will make matters worse."

He opened his mouth to speak once more, but decided against it. She had done her best to heal him that night, but some things would just need time. Pain rolled off of him in waves as he tried to get up. She put a hand to his chest, forcing him to lie back down.

"I should leave for my chambers," he protested.

"You should stay here and rest while you can," she said, pulling the down comforter around him. "It will do nothing but ruin my work if you walk to your chambers."

He sighed and stayed there, "Where will you sleep?"

"I do not need sleep, I simply continue out of habit. Sleep is the body's way to allow the mind to sort out its thoughts, creating dreams. My people do not need to sort out our thoughts and therefore when we do sleep, we relive our memories."

"You've never dreamed?"

She shrugged as she walked towards a chair by the balcony window, "Not in the sense you speak of."

He closed his eyes, "That seems rather sad."

"It is life," she answered simply.

She could feel his discomfort even from across the room, he could not rest in such a state. So she did the only thing she could think of. She allowed tendrils of her aura to meander throughout the room, coiling around everything in reach. The floor was soon covered by the silver smoke. She felt his pain recede as she gave him some of her strength.

She began to sing a lullaby, in her own language, that her nursemaid in Vanaheim had sang to her when she couldn't sleep. Loki sighed in relief from his spot on the bed, drifting off into sleep.

Freyja never noticed she had started to hum the tune idly while reminiscing, nor did she remember in the morning when exactly sleep took her. But as reality relinquished its hold on her, she drifted off into a memory that she regarded with mixed feelings.

_She was ten at the time, and Loki was barely over twelve. But he kneeled in front of her in silence, eyes closed. She had her hands on either side of his head, slowly chanting the incantation for the awakening, making sure that everything was running smoothly._

_They had been in the tower since sunrise and it was nearly noon. The process should have taken a lot less time, but she wanted to make sure nothing hurt Loki. She had altered the spell, adding in a few charms that would protect his mind from what might harm him during the ritual._

_She was almost done, as she could tell from the bright glow of his aura around his body. She just needed to finish this last crucial part. If anything went wrong here, the consequences would be deadly. She just hoped she had enough energy to sustain the last portion._

_Her hair had already turned gray, as it did when she was using too much energy, but she couldn't stop halfway through. She couldn't borrow some of Loki's energy either, he needed it for his body to cope with the changes. She could do nothing but hope as she continued._

_As she uttered the last syllable, something unexpected happened: something went horribly wrong. Loki's aura struck out in retaliation, the wave of energy making Freyja fly backwards into the stone wall. She tried to stay awake as she picked herself off the ground. She glanced toward the center of the room in fear._

_Loki was lying limp on the ground, not moving a centimeter. She rushed to him, checking for breathing or a heartbeat. He was barely breathing, and his pulse was escalating dangerously. Worse, when she entered his mind to check on him, she could feel his consciousness tearing at the seams. He was dying. And she didn't have the energy to save him._

_"Guards!" she shrieked, not knowing what else to do. "Guards, please!"_

_Within a few minutes, the locked door was broken and the guards were rushing their prince, along with her, to the infirmary. She couldn't think straight as they ran through the palace, she was the reason Loki was dying._

_When they reached the infirmary, Freyja broke away from the guard's hold and ran to where the Healers were working to see what was wrong with him. One of them, another Vanir, quickly told the others of the problem._

_All heads turned to her, an accusing look on every face. She thought it couldn't get any worse, but she was wrong. Odin, Frigga and Thor all ran in at that moment. Her heart dropped as she saw their faces. Thor turned to face her._

_"What's wrong with Loki?" he demanded. "What did you do to him?"_

_She shook her head fervently, "I didn't mean to! I thought-"_

_She went quiet when Odin's stormy gray eyes met hers. Frigga was now holding Loki's hand, murmuring under her breath._

_"What happened?" Odin demanded._

_"Your majesty, I believe Princess Freyja attempted to awaken his mind…" the Vanir trailed off._

_Odin took hold off her shoulders, "Is this true?"_

_She nodded, tears running down her face, "I didn't know…"_

_"There's nothing we can do, sire. The prince will not make it to sunset."_

_Now truly everyone looked at her with silent accusations, and they had the right to. She was the sole reason Loki lay dying in the cot. She ran from the room, ashamed and horrified at how her actions had gone._

_Loki had begged her to attempt awakening him, he had never stopped pleading. He had known the consequences and told her he was willing to take the risk. Now her best friend was slowly, painfully dying as his mind fell apart._

_She sunk down to the floor of the hall outside, her back against the wall. Feeling helpless and disgusted, she wrapped her arms around her legs and cried into her knees. She hadn't meant for it to go this way, she had even modified the incantations so that the outcome would be successful. And it hadn't worked._

_One thought went through her mind, and that was that if her father didn't kill her, Odin would. She knew the Asgardian law, a death required vengeance on the murderer. She would die soon after Loki did._

_She didn't pay attention to Odin leading Frigga and Thor out hours later, nor when the Healers left the Infirmary. She felt as if she was alone in the dark, and soon she truly was._

_When the sun was setting, she had stood up and walked into the Infirmary. Loki still lay on the cot, paler than usual. She sat down on the chair next to him and took his hand._

_"I'm sorry," she whispered, not knowing if he could hear her or not. "I thought I could fix the incantation, make it successful. I was wrong. Will you forgive me?_

_"I know you don't believe in my faith, but I hope to see you again in another life, even if you do not wish to see me. I would understand."_

_She sat in silence, searching through the shattering remains of his mind. She realized something then, something that would save him. It might kill her, when she had so little energy left, but it might save Loki._

_She began to chant again, picking the words out of her memory and creating a new spell to match her need. No one had ever thought of something so crazy before, but maybe she was a little crazy for doing such a thing._

_Coils of her aura wrapped around Loki, igniting his at the same time. Through the spell, she wove together their minds, their emotions, to create a link between them. She could feel what he was feelin, and she knew, if he still could feel, he could tell what she felt as well._

_Through the link, she managed to repair the damage she had cause to his mind. Elation flooded through her as she finished, despite the darkness that threatened to engulf her. As she uttered the last words, she felt his vitality again. He bolted up straight as she collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. She lost consciousness, but she was vaguely aware of Loki's concern and relief as it flooded through her._

_She had saved him, and now she didn't care what happened to herself._

_When she had woken up, she was in a cot in the Infirmary, Loki was asleep in the chair next to her. She sat up slowly, examining him._

_He was still pale, but in the usual way, his black hair was messy and stuck up in areas, dark circles surrounded his eyes and his mouth hung open slightly. He didn't look healthy, but he was most definitely alive. She could feel his consciousness more than usual, a result of her last minute save._

_Satisfied her work was completed, she laid back down and closed her eyes. She sensed Loki opening his eyes next to her, stretching in his chair._

_"I know you're awake," he said._

_"I am aware of that," she answered._

_"Why can I feel your emotions? How come I know whether you are awake, or thinking, or asleep?"_

_She opened one eye to look at him, "Because I created a spell that would save you, it created a psychological link between our minds so that I may fix what I had done."_

_"You should not have done that. Folkvar said you nearly killed yourself trying to save me."_

_"Folkvar?"_

_"The Vanir healer. He said he gave you some of his energy so you would not die."_

_He gestured to her still gray hair, "Why is your hair not red?"_

_"Consider this your first lesson in magic," she sighed. "If one uses too much magic at once, the body takes the necessary energy from elsewhere. First, your hair will gray, then your nails will die, your muscles fail next, your bones crumble and disintegrate, everything collapses as the energy is taken."_

_His green eyes widened, "I did not know that."_

_"There are many things you do not know," she sighed, feeling exhausted on numerous levels._

_"Are you alright?"_

_"Not in the slightest," she said in a shaky laugh._

_"I forgive you, by the way."_

_"What?"_

_A small smile crept across his lips, "I heard what you said, and I wanted you to know that I forgive you. I cannot believe it actually worked. You should have seen the healers' faces when I called for them."_

_She went to reply, but Folkvar walked into the room the moment she opened her mouth. He stared at her in surprise before turning on Loki._

_"You were to tell me when she awoke," he said stiffly._

_"She just came around," he lied._

_He bowed his head, "No matter. Princess, your father has come and wishes to speak with you. Immediately."_

_She plastered a fake smile on her face, "Thank you, Folkvar. Please tell him I will see him right away."_

_"He will be waiting in the Throne Room," he said, bowing and walking out._

_She groaned as soon as the door closed, "Perfect, if Odin does not murder me, my father certainly will."_

_He laughed, and when she turned to face him, she was in a new memory. He was older now, about twenty in appearance. She knew he was truly a few centuries old, give or take a decade. Age wasn't very important in the eyes of the Vanir and Asgardians, as both races lived for millennia. His eyes glittered mischievously in the darkness of her chambers._

_"Is that sugar?" he asked incredulously._

_Her hand flew to the spot on her neck that he had been kissing not a second earlier. Sure enough, she could feel the fine powder of confectionary sugar on her skin._

_"Damn Thor!" she exclaimed in horror. "I thought I had gotten it all…"_

_"What, pray tell, does Thor have to do with you being coated with sugar?" he asked curiously._

_"I was speaking with Ottar when he walked in, drunk. I said something he did not agree with and he threw the first thing he could reach, which just so happened to be sugar."_

_"Hmm. I must remember to send him a thank-you gift," he mumbled. "In the meantime, however, I will simply have to find the rest."_

_He began kissing her again, tongue tracing softly over her skin. She really wasn't sure whether she did or did not like when he kissed her like this. It was an intimate gesture, and yet she could still feel his restraint. Much to her dismay, it tickled._

_"Stop it!" she laughed, trying to squirm out of his arms that trapped her like a cage._

_She felt him grin against her skin, but he didn't stop. He continued relentlessly, now barely grazing his teeth across her shoulder. His fingers traced their way down her sides, his cold touch both torturing and pleasing._

_"Freyja," he whispered as if it were a secret only they shared._

_"Yes?" she replied softly._

_"I love you. More than I should."_

_She smiled as he looked up to meet her eyes, "By all rights, I should not love you at all, and yet I love you more than anything in the world. What point are you trying to make?"_

_"Will you be only mine?"_

_She leaned closer, her lips brushing against his ear, "So long as you are mine."_

_He backed up slightly, his eyes now serious, "Do you not believe that I have given you myself? Would it comfort you if I swore to only to sleep in your bed?"_

_"I should hope you wouldn't, lest I find my bed quite cramped with three," she teased, thinking about the rumors she had heard._

_He flinched, not realizing she was joking. She had known the rumors had bothered him, but she didn't know they hurt him so. Did he think she truly believed that he was still involved with Sigyn? The entire notion was utterly ridiculous. She knew their brief history, but he had made it clear that she had been no more than a distraction._

_"I swear to you, love, there is nothing between Sigyn and I."_

_She turned his head so that she could face him, "Is your faith in me so fickle? Do you honestly think I believe the tales spread by drunkards and inn keepers' wives?_

_"Forgive me my cautions."_

_"There is nothing to forgive."_

_She trailed off as she kissed him on the lips, not as reserved as he always did. It drove her insane that he was always so hesitant with her, always prepared for the inexistent moment in which she would tell him to stop. Although he gave her everything that pleased her, he held back slightly. He was afraid of being rebuffed, and she did not blame him for she felt the same fear. _

_Something strange happened then. Instead of continuing in the way it occurred, Loki broke the kiss. He pulled away, a look of shock on his face. A splotch of red blossomed on the front of his black silk shirt. She screamed, but silence was the only thing that filled the room. A single, familiarly haunting voice rang through her head._

"I know what you treasure most, dear Princess. I have not forgotten," _it hissed._ "I will find you, sweet Freyja. I may have once spared your precious royal but you have drawn out my suffering, and so I will draw out yours. Give me what I want, and I shall half your punishment; continue to defy me, and I will bring you tortures unlike anything you have known. You will know the true meaning of pain."

She sat up as she was brought back to reality, her body tangled in the sheets. Her eyes scanned the room as she tried desperately to remember where she was. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears as the overwhelming fear began to dissipate. Thanos had always had that effect on her, caused by being the only person able to enter her mind and his poisonous aura. He could not manipulate her mind, however, but he could break through too many of her defenses for her taste.

A knock on bedroom door made her jump. She shook her head and walked over to the door in her white pajamas.

"Freyja? Have you awakened?"

She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous question.

"If I hadn't, I wouldn't be able to answer, now would I?" she called in return.

She opened the door to find him smiling.

"I suppose not," he said.

"And why, pray tell, are you here at this hour?"

"You and I must speak with Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D."

She sighed in resignation, "Alright, spare me three minutes."

She closed the door and got dressed slowly. It was well that Thor was to take her to Fury as she did need to speak with him. Thanos was still searching for her, and he would eventually wise up and find her on Earth. She had to leave. Soon.

If she didn't, she would condemn the humans to the horror and devastation Thanos would bring with him. She would have no more hash marks on her shoulder.


	13. Chapter 12: Devil's Blessing

**_Song of the Chapter: Bright Lights ~ Matchbox 20_**

* * *

_"The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn."_

_ –David Russell_

* * *

Freyja leaned against the wall while Thor spoke with Director Fury about getting a house of her own. She knew she should say something to them about leaving, stop their ridiculous and pointless conversation, but she didn't know how to start.

Despite her being good with words, she was not a charismatic person. Loki was always the one who could talk his way into or out of every, and any, situation. He was known as the God of Lies and Mischief, even though he was better at persuasion than lies. She was the quiet one who pulled strings from behind the curtains, her friends were the main attractions.

Being princess of Vanaheim and ambassador to Asgard had quite a few disadvantages, as well as being the guard of all the secrets in the Nine Realms. It brought her too much unwanted attention. Although her brief stays on Midgard allowed her some quiet, they never could last. She would soon have to dive into the abyss once more.

But how could she say this without beginning what would be a long argument between herself and Thor? He would not take the news well. He would try to stop her, which would irritate her. She hated when people told her what to do. She spent most of her life being forced into choices she would not make herself by her father. Her freedom, however little she had at the moment, was something she prized.

"I don't have empty houses at my disposal," Fury pointed out. "She's only staying until she returns to Asgard, you said."

"What?" she demanded when she heard, turning to Thor. "When were you planning on telling me this?"

Thor grimaced, "I was hoping to tell you later."

"When? While you dragged me back?" she said. "I already told you I cannot return to Asgard."

"You must!"

"I will not!"

"Am I missing something here?" Fury asked.

"Simply the entire picture," she snapped. "It is a little too late to catch up, would you mind giving Thor and I a moment alone?"

"Not likely. I need you to fill me in, anyway. There are too many blanks at the moment, and you seem to have all the answers."

"The answers you seek are the ones I cannot give you," she sighed, becoming increasingly tired with the repeating conversation.

"It's not as if the information you give will be shared with anyone."

"Tell him," Thor implored her.

She looked at him incredulously, "Whose side are you on?"

"There are no sides here to choose from."

"Then please do not undermine me, especially when we are speaking about a topic directly related to me."

"Just tell me what the Tesseract is and I won't bother you any further."

"You want to know what the Tesseract is?" she said, her patience wearing thin. "It's a box, a container for an idiotic mistake my people made at the actions of _them_."

She pointed a thin finger at Thor who looked surprised.

"Why is it we take the blame for everything done recently?" he demanded.

"It was _your people_ who started the war, _your people_ who refused to end the violence, _your people_ who continued until we broke down your defenses, and _your people_ who allowed the devastation of war to ravage the Nine Realms. The Tesseract was an irrational mistake that stemmed from the war."

"So it is the fault of the Asgardians when the Vanir make a mistake?"

"Do not twist my words, Thor! I do not blame Asgard for every ridiculous mistake we made, but the Tesseract would have never been created if not for your people's arrogance."

"You speak as if your people were not arrogant!"

"And you as if you were not the same! It is the condescension of your people that leads to every war which erupts within the Nine Realms!"

"So that is it, is it? You are blaming me for what happened to Loki-"

"Loki-?" Fury started, but was cut off as Freyja returned a comment.

"This has nothing to do with Loki!"

"Yes it does, I can see it in your eyes. You believe it is my fault that Loki found out who he is, and yes, it stemmed from my arrogance but also from his tricks. You believe it is my fault that I was not there for him when he needed me. But if anyone is to blame, it is you! None of us have ever been able to change Loki's mind but you. And yet when he needed you most, you were off roaming the Nine Realms!"

She clenched her jaw, biting her tongue. If she opened her mouth now, it would not be English she would speak, she would send a curse at him. She clenched her fists, wondering if it would relieve any stress if she struck him. Maybe it would knock some sense into him.

But then, her eyes softened as she thought of what he had said. She knew it was true, Loki had shown her without even knowing. He had needed her, still needed her, and she had left him to deal with everything on his own. She had let him down, and it was a splinter in her heart that would twinge every time she saw the fragmented remains of everything he once was. Every time she looked in his green eyes, she might as well have been stabbing herself with a knife.

"If your little spat is over," Fury said sternly, "I still need to know who's going where and what's going on with the Tesseract."

"We will return to Asgard within the week," Thor answered.

"Thor will return to Asgard within the week, I will leave within the next two days for the farthest realm I can find," she corrected.

"I can't let you leave without getting some information on the Tesseract," Fury spoke up.

Her glance at him was sharp, warning him silently as she spoke, "If you do not allow me to leave, you will seal the fate of your people. You do not know what enemy craves the power you seek answers of. He will rip through your world as a child does paper. Thanos will stop at nothing until he has the Tesseract."

"Thanos?" Thor asked. "The warlord?"

"Not just any warlord," she laughed humorlessly. "The warlord who can enter the minds of the most adept Vanir and tear them apart. The same warlord who exposed Loki to the corruptive powers of the Tesseract and supplied him with the Chitauri. The same warlord who held me captive so many years ago."

"And what is so great about this warlord?" Fury asked.

"You think the Asgardians outgun you? Thanos destroyed my entire race within a week! Earth is no more than a flower from which he can rip off the petals, one by one. Take no offense, but he would finish you off within a day."

"You can't intimidate me into letting you leave," he said sternly.

"I am not attempting to intimidate you!" she exclaimed helplessly. "I am trying to warn you, but it seems you are more thick-headed than the Jotuns and Asgardians combined!"

"Look, the World Security Council has made it very clear not to let you leave until we get some answers."

"Alright. Yes. No," she started answering sarcastically. "It's possible. Seventy-eight percent chance of rain. 1.77245-"

"I don't need the square root of pi," he said irritably. "I need to know what is in the Tesseract."

"No, you _want _to know what is in the Tesseract, you _need_ to let it go."

"Look-"

"You look. You have two choices, which is the same as saying you have none: you can try to hold me here in which you will fail or you can let me leave and I will forget you ever thought about such a ridiculous notion. The choice is yours."

She turned around and strode out the door, irritated. Her irritation wasn't concentrated, it stemmed towards and from several sources. She was angry at Thor for even thinking of lying to her, peeved at Fury for trying to keep her there, furious at Loki for creating the mess he did, and even more irate with herself for coming in the first place and getting herself into the mess that was now her life.

It occurred to her that she had not meditated that morning, as she left with Thor immediately after waking. She was in serious need of it now, if it would even work. Humans, with their ever-changing atmosphere, seemed to reduce the product of meditation. She did, however, know of one solution that could calm her down and help her out at the same time: Loki.

She walked briskly through the halls, gaining strange looks from the agents, as she searched for an empty room. It took quite a bit of wandering to find a basically deserted area of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base and when she finally found a room, she leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. Her most recent headache making it difficult to concentrate, but she managed.

Loki was lying on his silver cot, staring at the ceiling once more. It seemed to be something he did a lot. Something about his expression upset her, he was dwelling on something. She could see it in the way his mouth was set and the way he traced strange shapes into the metal surface.

He looked over at her when he realized she was there, the weariness fading away from his face.

"Hello, love."

She couldn't help but smile at his nickname for her. She couldn't remember when she stopped being Freyja and became 'love,' she didn't think even he remembered when the switch was made. One day she had simply become 'love' and she couldn't imagine ever going back.

"Does it bother you that you call me by an endearment and yet I still call you Loki?" she asked, genuinely curious.

He chuckled lightly, "Of course not. It's not by what name you call me-"

He stood up and walked around to her back, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "- but how you say it."

She smiled sadly as she remembered a game they had once played that involved whispered riddles in the dark. She sensed he remembered it, too. His playful smile faded when he looked in her eyes.

"Something is wrong. This is not simply a pleasure visit, is it?"

"I came to ask for advice," she sighed, sitting down on his cot.

He raised his eyebrows, sitting down next to her, "You've come to ask advice of me? Sorry to disappoint, but I do not think I can help you here."

"You are the only one I can ask," she answered. "You are all I have left."

"Ask away, but I cannot guarantee an answer that will help."

She leaned her back against the wall, "I am at a crossroads. Three main paths extend before me. All three are paved in blood, two in the blood of others and one in my own. I do not consider walking the roads where others shall die for the sake of my own personal wishes, but I will slowly kill myself on the third.

"There is no way to go back and I know I must choose the third path, but I do not believe I have the strength to do so. I suppose my question is what would you do in such a situation?"

He was silent, thinking about what she had said. She turned her head to watch him. She knew he was reflecting on his own memories as well as trying to think of an answer. She wondered how he saw himself, how he saw what he did. She wouldn't read his mind, out of courtesy, since she knew he would tell her anyway. They had made an agreement long ago: she would not manipulate his mind in any way and he would never lie to her, half-truth or not.

"I cannot say what you should do, for I have no answer for you. I suppose the only thing you can do is walk the third path as best you can."

She looked down at her hands, somehow knowing this would be his answer. Beside her, Loki was thinking again about something troubling. She could feel it, practically hear his mind working away at his interest.

"Does it ever bother you?"

"What?"

He looked at her, green eyes serious, "Does it bother you that your father knew this might happen to you, but made you carry the burden anyway?"

"The problem with my father is that he never cared. He fell in love once, and it ruined his life. To prevent such pain, he refused to feel any sort of connection towards anything. But you are not truly asking about my father, are you?"

He went silent, answering her with his emotions.

"Pitiful excuses for fathers, unlawful children and broken families," she whispered. "Seems to be the norm for royalty…"

"It seems so."

"You were right, you know."

"About what?"

"I should have run away with you when you offered. I should have left it all behind. Neither Vanaheim nor Asgard was in need of you or I. Thanos would have never found me the first time. There would no danger threatening you or Asgard or anyone I come in contact with. I was a fool to say no."

"No, you were not. It was selfish of me to ask you to leave everything simply to be with me."

"What would you do?"

"I do not do well when given certain roads, I tend to make my own."

"Make my own path…"

"I find it easier to make my own path rather than conform to the one set down by others."

"I cannot simply take the easy road."

"I never said it was an easy choice, I simply said it was more so than what is offered."

She fiddled with her –his, in reality- emerald ring, thinking about the idea. He glanced down at her hand, his eyes softening as he spotted it.

"Why did you keep my ring?"

"I have told you why."

"You told me you could not part with it. That is not a reason."

"It reminded me of you, spurred me on when I felt as if I should give in to Thanos. When I would feel my strength waning, I would look at it and I could imagine you telling me to continue, to not give up."

"Was it in the nagging way you told me when I could not perform an incantation correctly?"

"I did not nag you!" she laughed. "I simply tried to heighten your morale."

"And you did a _marvelous_ job," he said sarcastically.

"Did you not attempt once more afterwards?"

"Yes," he admitted. "You are very persuasive."

"Only in your eyes."

"You say many things about yourself can only be seen through my eyes."

"It is the same with you."

"Are you so blind? So completely unaware of yourself?"

"I have been blind for a long time, Loki."

He thought about that, a look crossing his face that made her laugh. He was utterly lost, having no clue what she was speaking of. She honestly thought he should riddle it out by himself. His puzzlement was amusing, she loved when she genuinely had him grasping for the answer. It was a phenomenon that did not occur often.

She suddenly sobered, thinking about earlier that morning. When she had said he was all she had left, it was true. She could not afford to lose him; it would be the final straw to break the camel's back. She knew what she would do if he died. She would hunt down Thanos, retake the Tesseract and destroy it, killing both herself and Thanos in the process. It would rid the world of two beasts and a deadly weapon. Sometimes she thought of doing such simply for the result. But she would not do such now, it would break Loki.

"I need you to promise me something," she said softly.

"Anything."

"I need you to promise me that you will never deliberately put yourself in danger. If danger finds you, do not fight foolishly. Do not play the heroic prince who fights until his death."

"You want me to run?"

"I want you to stay alive."

"What has prompted such a request?"

"Thanos has reminded me of his knowledge of you. He has threatened to harm you…"

"You will not lose me, love."

"Promise me this."

"You have my word." He agreed. "But allow me to request something of you as well: whatever you choose to do, be sure it is the right choice. You do not want to make the same mistakes I have."

"I will do my best."

"You will do what you think is right. I know you."

She shook her head, "I will do what I _feel_ is right, not what I think. It is my curse: to be forever heart-bound, no matter the consequences."

He looked at her bitter-sweet smile, "How is it a curse and not a blessing?"

"Look at my life, Loki. I felt that it was best to love you, so I shattered the remains of my family. I felt it was right to fight with my people against Thanos, and left you to think me dead. I felt I should protect you from death by constantly running, but look what you have done in my absence. I have destroyed my own life because of my selfishness."

"You are not selfish-"

"If I were not, I would not torture you so. I know what you feel towards my actions. If I were a good friend, I would take away your memories of me and let you move on. Instead, I taunt you with the possibility of happiness. I drag you along to believe I could find happiness, but I only hurt both you and myself. I am a selfish monster, but I cannot change."

"You are not the monster…"

"You insinuate that you are the monster, but you are not a bad person. You have just made the wrong choices."

"I've condemned myself."

"I believe in second chances-"

"And what of thirds?" he asked bitterly.

"Redemption does not have a limit."

"But it does have a limited number of opportunities."

"I believe you've already countered that statement earlier. Simply make a new opportunity."

He smiled, "And what will be your new opportunity?"

"I don't know."

"You will find an answer," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

"I love you," he said, almost as if it was a plea.

She turned to kiss him softly on the lips, "I love you, too."

When she broke the kiss, his green eyes were filled with guilt. Something was troubling him, but she couldn't think of what it might be. Regret echoed off of him like a voice in a cave. She knew he would tell her if she asked, but he would not want to. He would talk to her about it if he found the need.

"You should probably go," he said softly. "No doubt, someone has noticed your absence."

She sighed, "As you wish."

"May the Wise One give you the strength you need," he said in her language, accent almost perfect.

Her head snapped up at the sentence, her eyes filled with surprise. The blessing was common among Vanir, but never so much as uttered among the other races. Words carry power, often coming true. Blessings and curses are not thrown about nonchalantly. It had been one of the first lessons she had taught him: words may be slung together in whatever form pleases the speaker, but vows must be hand-picked and analyzed critically.

"And may He offer you His guidance and protection," she replied in the same tongue.

"Goodbye, love," he whispered right before she left.

Freyja opened her eyes to find herself back in the empty room, as she expected. What she hadn't expected was the door opening exactly when she stood up. The door slid open silently, revealing none other than Natasha Romanoff. Her eyes narrowed, her face contorting into a mask of distrust, as she saw Freyja.

Not exactly who she would have preferred to see, but definitely who she could ask what she needed to. Natasha just wasn't going to like it.


	14. Chapter 13: Letting Go

_"Moving on, is a simple thing, what it leaves behind is hard."_

_ -Dave Mustaine_

* * *

Natasha glared at Freyja suspiciously, "What are you doing here?"

_Perhaps_, Freyja thought, _the question can wait._

"A pleasure to see you as well, Natasha," she sighed. "Now, if you would be so kind as to excuse me-"

She tried to circle around the agent, but Natasha simply moved to block her.

"What are you doing here?" she repeated.

"I am honestly beginning to lose my patience with you humans believing you can force me to answer your questions. I do not have to answer to you and, quite frankly, I do not have to do anything you ask."

"We wouldn't ask so many questions if you were more open."

"Long ago, I learned three can keep a secret if two are dead. Need I remind you of the same lesson you learned, daughter of Drakov?"

Natasha's eyes flared in anger, "Stay out of my mind!"

"There is your mistake: I am not looking into your mind. Do not blame me if you broadcast your past and thoughts into your aura. I cannot ignore what is right before my eyes."

"You're not the only one who can read people. You want to ask me a question."

Freyja shrugged, "It can wait until your mood has lightened. I doubt you will enjoy the query."

"Spit it out, I don't have time to waste."

If Natasha wanted it so desperately, she would give her the question, "How do you live with yourself?"

"Excuse me?!"

Freyja shook her head, "Allow me to rephrase that, your dialect and meaning is different than mine and my words often come out wrong. You have the blood of many on your hands, deaths in your past. You try to hide the guilt, but it is plain in your aura. My question to you is how do you overcome the guilt?"

"That's none of your business," she snarled.

"I simply request your advice on the topic."

"What do you have to regret?"

"What have I to regret?" she asked incredulously. "You are not the only one to have…blood in your past."

"You regret deaths? According to Fury and Thor, you haven't killed so much as a mosquito. If you have anything to regret, it's your attachment to that monster you can't let go."

Freyja felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. It was a cheap trick, a low blow, to bring up Loki. But before Freyja could retort, Natasha continued.

"How can _you_ live with _yourself_, loving that psychotic murderer? He has killed hundreds, not caring how many families he tore apart in the process. He ruthlessly drove his army through New York, tried to kill all of us. He tried to take over Earth, to enslave us. And yet you still sympathize with him."

"Don't you dare say a word against Loki! You claim he is a monster, and you a saint. Have you so much as taken a look in the mirror? Your very past is an epitaph to what you have buried deep so none can see. You have killed as many, if not more, men as Loki.

"But your pharisaism extends past yourself and unto others. You attempt to drive me to guilt over loving Loki when your love for Clinton Barton is the same. Both of you are assassins, killing people for your superiors. You ask how I can love Loki; I ask how you can love a man who was to kill you. How many lives has your Clint taken? How many have you? Do not patronize me on choices of Loki's or mine when you are no different than the rest of us!"

With that, she shoved past Natasha irritably. She had told Steve that she hated hypocrites, and it was the truth. What right did any of these people have to judge her or anyone else on their choices? Her anger was simmering under her control, but she needed an outlet.

Freyr would have been the perfect person to vent to. He had almost always been there for her, in ways only a brother could be. But he was dead, she reminded herself. The one member of her family who had supported her, who had listened to everything she had to say, and he was gone forever.

Freyja wandered through the halls until she had reached the more populated area of the base. The outlet she was looking for was an empty room she had stumbled on by accident. In her attempt to dodge an agent who couldn't be seen behind the pile of papers he carried, she had ducked through a doorway.

The room was large, about three times the size of her borrowed chambers in Stark Tower, and empty besides the objects which lined the walls on opposite sides. On one end of the room, large foam targets shaped as both circles and people formed a straight row. The opposite wall was lined with shelves covered in various guns, bows and quivers.

She smiled at her luck. Archery was one of the few things Freyja could lose herself in. It was the empty rhythm created that did the trick. Her fingers trailed over the various bows, knowing that none would work just right.

A small incantation slipped through her lips, her palms facing up, as she visualized what she wanted. It appeared as a shimmering mirage at first before solidifying into reality. The object in her hands was dusty from a millennium of not being so much as touched.

It was a bow of silver, created for both decoration and use. Most Vanir weapons were created to look appealing to the eye as well as work efficiently. Attractive and deadly, that was the style of the Vanir. This bow was crafted to look as if it was a multitude of vines wrapping around a curved tree. She had treasured it greatly, as she had made it herself.

She picked up a random quiver of wooden arrows from the shelves and slung it over her shoulder, pulling out one at the same time. She nocked the arrow, drawing the string back to barely an inch away from her face. Aiming at the rounded target across from her, she loosed the arrow. It hit the center with a satisfying thud. She nocked two more, one after the other, and shot them. Each one split through the former with ease.

She jumped at the sound of applause, turning to face the source of the noise. Once more, the first thing she saw was the startling eyes that sent fear spiking through her blood. But she soon controlled her ridiculous emotions as she focused on the rest of his face.

"Sorry if I scared you," Clint Barton said, walking towards her slowly.

She watched, shocked, as he seemed to slink towards her in the same manner as the man whose eyes he shared. It was startling how similar and yet different they were.

"There is no reason to apologize," she said as politely as she could manage. "I must say, it is not often a person is able to sneak up on me."

"Do you scare easy, too?"

"I do not understand what you mean."

He shrugged, picking up a bow, "Never mind, it's nothing."

"Please, I would rather you address your questions and find the answers from me rather than speculation."

"Is there a reason you don't like me?"

"I have not decided whether I like you or not. Why ask?"

"You're always welcoming to everyone, everyone except me. You seem to shy away from me, as if you're afraid. I just want to know why."

She sighed, "Forgive me for my disrespect, I did not mean to isolate you. It is my fears that cause the difference."

"You're afraid of me?"

"No. It is not you that I fear, it is your eyes."

He raised his eyebrows, "My eyes?"

She laughed, "It sounds ridiculous, but allow me to explain. There was a man I knew long ago, though to call him a man is a stretch. He was a bloodthirsty, sadistic monster of a man, and he hunted me down twice. Once, he succeeded in holding me captive for a month, inflicting what tortures pleased him. It has been a little over a millennium since then, but he still haunts me."

"But what does this guy have to do with me?"

"You and he share the same eyes."

"As in we had similar eyes?" he asked as he nocked an arrow.

"As in you have the exact same eyes as he did: the same shape, hue, and angle. It is a strange enigma that startles me whenever I see them."

"You know," he said, allowing the arrow to fly towards the target, "I would never do anything to hurt you. I know I shot you down the first day you came, but that wasn't really by choice."

"Everything is by choice, even if a death threat hangs over your head," she said solemnly. "But I will not hold it against you. And I trust you, Clint, but I do not trust myself."

She examined his shot, "Steve told me you were an excellent shot. I must say, I am impressed."

He laughed, "That was nothing. There's not much of a challenge here, though."

"In Vanaheim, we used to celebrate the new century with contests of swordsmanship and archery. I once had to shoot long range through two sets of bars as a challenge."

"How'd you do?"

She loosed an arrow, slicing through his first, "I hit the bull's-eye's border. I was frustrated for weeks afterwards."

A grin, "Why? That must have been quite a success, just by hitting the target."

"I was off by a little under an inch, by your measurements. It bothered me to get so close and yet be so far, it wounded my pride. I got over it."

"Funny, you don't seem like the type to be prideful."

"Everyone has some degree of pride, it is a universal characteristic. I have learned that pride can kill, so I keep myself in check."

He nodded, looking at her bow through the corner of his eyes, "That's not one of our bows."

"It is mine."

"You didn't have a bow when you came here."

"Magic allows one to teleport objects from one place to another. I simply used it to bring my bow from Asgard."

"Is that how Loki was able to make armor appear and disappear whenever he wanted?"

"You mean like this?"

She turned to face him, silver armor shimmering into existence over her jeans and white tee. When she was finished, she wore shin guards, a chainmail skirt, a breastplate, arm guards and a helmet shaped to look like a snarling wolf. All of it was silver and etched with strange, curling symbols, with the exception of the helmet.

"Uh, yeah," he said, slightly dazed. "I thought Thor said you were a pacifist."

"We are renowned blacksmiths, creating about half of Asgard's weapons, shields, and armor. I forged this myself in a wager against Thor," the armor disappeared as she spoke.

"What was the bet?"

"He believed, being against violence, that I could not create a weapon or armor that was efficient. He lost."

Clint laughed, "Do you gamble a lot?"

"Only when I know I'm right," Freyja said with a smile.

"Is that often?"

"Usually. My calculations of statistics are always right, thanks to my ability to see the possible futures."

"That must be helpful."

"Personally, it is a nuisance. Sure, it helps me to see what outcomes will be disastrous, but it also leaves very little room for surprise unless I completely block out the images."

"Isn't that a good thing? Nothing can catch you by surprise."

"Imagine, for one minute, that you knew everything set to happen in your life. You would know if you married, had kids, if a friend died, if a relative died, if a disaster struck your home. You would know exactly when and how everything occurred, even your own death. Is that a good thing in your eyes?"

"I guess not," he answered, shooting another arrow.

She loosed an arrow as well.

"Can I ask you a question? About Loki?"

She sighed, "You may, just choose your words carefully or my next target will not be across the room."

He looked at her blankly, as if he had truly believed her.

She couldn't help but smile, "That was a joke. I know you laugh here on Earth."

"Oh…"

"You may ask me, but I do ask that you refrain from judging me or Loki for you truly know neither of us."

"Okay. Why Loki?"

"You're going to need to be a bit more specific."

"Well, I know you asked me not to judge but…he's just sort of…sadistic. What do you see in him?"

"The first question of everyone on Earth, it seems. I will tell you the same thing I told Steve: he was different then, exactly what I needed at the time."

"Don't you feel any different, now that you know what he did here?"

"Must I defend my emotions in such a repetitive argument? I'm beginning to wonder whether it would be best simply to gather all of you and give my reasons before each one of you come to me individually and I must repeat myself uncountable times."

"We probably don't deserve your answers. But I just want to understand."

"How many has your Natasha killed?"

"She's not _my_ Natasha. And I don't know anyway."

"How many have you felled?"

He shrugged, "I try not to keep count."

"Is it any different? Both you and Natasha have killed people, yet you both are companions."

He frowned, "What do you mean by 'companions'?"

"You may interpret it in any way that pleases you. Whatever you choose, my point is that actions often do not cause those with close ties to part."

"Hmm…Never thought of it like that…"

"Not many do until it is pointed out to them."

"So, I heard you're planning on leaving Earth soon."

"I refuse to stay and jeopardize the lives of your people. I would rather die than see another realm lost."

"I appreciate that. I wouldn't enjoy seeing the extinction of humans, either."

She laughed, "I suppose not."

"I hate to dredge up old memories, but Thor said you saw your home destroyed before your eyes."

"Your point?"

"What was it like?"

She pulled the bowstring further than she usually would have, taking out her angst on it, "Painful."

And she let it go.

* * *

Freyja laid out the folded clothes that she had decided to take with her on the bed. She had decided she would leave the majority of Pepper's clothes as she probably wouldn't return to Earth within the next century. One Midgardian outfit was enough, just in case she decided to drop in for a brief stay again. She would leave a few silver coins, from Alfheim, for everything Tony had given her.

She then shrugged off the jeans and tee she wore and slid back into the ragged green tunic and leather pants. Silver coils of her energy wrapped around the ensemble, restoring it to what it had once been. The colors were no longer pale and dull, the tears had vanished, but she knew she would never recover her fur-lined coat. She would have to buy a new one, just in case she went wandering through Jotunheim to throw off Thanos.

She then placed her personal belongings on the bed as well, pulling the briefcase out from under the bed. Placing everything inside strategically, she created space in the exact center of it. Thor had told her on the way to the S.H.I.E.L.D. base that Odin had disconnected the Tesseract and now fueled the strange machine to another power source. It was this piece of information that had pleased her. Uttering a spell, she found the Tesseract in her hands within two seconds.

A gasp escaped her lips as she held it, the power sending her memories of how it was connected to her. It did this, among other things, with whoever held it in their bare hands. She was whisked away into a memory that was not her own.

_She was in the Infirmary of Caelum, the capitol city of Vanaheim. All of the cots were empty except for one, which held the sickly body of a newborn baby. The baby was decidedly not full Vanir as the shade of blue was too light, the hair very close to brown instead of black, the ears were slightly pointed near the top._

_Across from the cot, her father stood speaking with the Healers._

_"There is nothing that can be done for the child?" he demanded._

_"My King," one of the male healers answered, "with all due respect, you brought us a babe who is already on Death's threshold. Had you brought her to us sooner, there might be an answer."_

_"There must be some spell, some incantation, which will bring her back."_

"_No one can be brought back from the dead. Maybe we could help if you told us where you found her."_

_"I answered already: she was left to an inadequate woman, her mother had died during birth."_

_"But that is not a location."_

_One of the female healers examined the baby while they spoke, "Your majesty, why does the babe have the mark of a royal?"_

_Everyone crowded around then as the woman opened one of the baby's eyes, revealing brown eyes that were definitely not a trait of the Vanir. Around her pupil, was a ring of gold, the sign of the Vanaheim royal family."_

_"She is you daughter?" hissed the man. "But Queen Van gave birth at dawn to one child, a boy. How is it possible?"_

_"Who was her mother?" the woman asked. "Apparently no one of our people, her traits are not all our own."_

_"It matters not who her mother is. You will speak not a word of this to anyone."_

_"If you are desperate to save her," one of the minor healers pointed out, "we could always use the Muse."_

_"The Muse?" her father repeated. "What do you know of it?"_

_"We know it has enough energy to sustain many lives. It may save your daughter's."_

_"Then do so. Do what you must. Call for me when you have finished."_

Freyja pulled herself out of the memory, knowing exactly what it was. Not long after she had learned her mother was not Queen Van, she found she had been born gravely ill. Her father had taken her back to Vanaheim to save her, but there was only one thing they could do. There was a reason her eyes, once brown and gold, were so bright a blue; a reason why she was so powerful.

She placed the Tesseract in the square space she had left empty, and shut the briefcase. Now, Thanos would no longer find interest in Asgard. He would trace the Tesseract's power to wherever she was, directly to her.

"Going somewhere, are we?"

Tony's voice made her jump in surprise. He was leaning against the doorframe, looking at her, with a drink in his hand. She knew he had not been there until she had shut the briefcase, so he hadn't seen anything. All he saw was the scattered clothes on her bed and her packed bag.

"I thought Fury said you weren't allowed to leave."

"Fury does not own me, nor can he instruct me on what to do."

"So, how are you planning to escape?"

"I will take my jet from the base and leave for wherever the winds will take me."

He stopped mid-sip, "Problem."

"Solution," she answered sarcastically.

"How are you going to get past all of the agents and then get out, too?"

She laughed, "I am a sorceress, Tony. I believe making myself invisible is on my list of abilities. Besides, I have spent my life evading my enemies."

"It would be stupid to try to escape alone."

"I will not drag anyone else into this. This is my cross to bear, as you humans say."

"Ever think about throwing the cross into the fire?"

"Never realistically."

"Shame. You could do so much if you would stop running."

"I will not put the Nine Realms in danger simply because I wish for some peace."

"Ask yourself something. Will it kill you to stay for a couple more days, just to make a better plan?"

"I suppose not…"

"Right. Star-spangled Spandex will even tell you that you need a better plan."

"Who?"

"Steve. What is it about him, by the way, that gets you talking?"

"He is different, and he understands."

"Hmm," he mused. "So, is it settled?"

She sighed, "Three more days, at most. Then I will leave, one way or another."


	15. Chapter 14: Descent into Madness

**_Song of the Chapter: Sail ~ Awolnation_**

* * *

_"No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks."_

_ -Mary Wollstonecraft_

* * *

Loki lay on the cold metal surface of his makeshift bed in his little prison cell, thinking. So much had happened recently, going from sheer nothingness to a rollercoaster of knowledge. He tried to sort out the recent happenings, hoping to find answers.

First, Freyja was alive. From what she had revealed to him, he guessed she just barely evaded death. He was relieved to know she had not died in the explosion, but he also felt conflicted because of it. Despite her bringing him hope for a future, she also brought his past actions back to life.

When he had brought the Frost Giants into Asgard, when he had tried to destroy Jotunheim, even when he tried to rule over Midgard, he had thought he was doing the right thing. He did not regret his actions when Thor brought him back to Asgard, nor when he received a hiding to reckon with from Odin. He did, however, find he felt guilty about all he had done the moment Freyja first appeared in his cell.

She had always been able to break through every wall he put up, no defense could hold against her. She was his greatest weakness, both finding strength and losing it when she was near. He could always be himself around her, always express his emotions freely. She never judged him.

Though, Loki knew, she probably should. He had done so much to hurt others in attempt to gain what he thought was what he wanted that it sickened him to think that Freyja would still stand by him. He didn't deserve her loyalty.

He remembered when he had thought her dead, when he first witnessed the explosion. He had once overheard Thor telling Frigga that he had healed from the mental wound he obtained by the destruction of Vanaheim. It was not true, he had never healed from the pain. It had felt as if someone had snuffed out the candle that kept the darkness at bay. Without Freyja's light, his darker emotions had intensified. His jealousy grew deeper, his temper grew shorter, and his hunger for happiness grew stronger until he coveted all who had found what he did not have.

But saying Freyja was similar to a candle was a comparison that did not meet all of the truth. Her death had also shone a light on how everyone treated him differently. He was Odin's second son; Thor's frail, scrawny, quick-tongued brother who found more interest in the words on a page than a sword in his hand. They found it strange that he was so much stronger in magic than in muscle.

However, he had been somewhat respected for his mastery of magic, as he was one of the very few Asgardians who had gained such a title. When Freyja had left, Loki had turned to magic as an outlet. It made him feel as if she were still there, smiling at his progress and helping him through his failures.

Another connection that kept her memory close was the garden. It had been his birthday gift to her when she returned from her visit to each of the Nine Realms. He had kept her secret garden in good condition, knowing she would have mourned its loss. It held a great deal of plants that had come directly from Vanaheim. He wondered what state it was in now. He hoped the neglect was not irreversible.

Another failure to add to his long list: the loss of Freyja's highly-treasured garden. He seemed unable to find success since she left Asgard, but disaster just adored his company. His greatest mistake was the one he feared Freyja's opinion on: his mass execution of hundreds of Midgardians. She had warned him once that if he ever used his magic to kill, she would take it away.

Was that one of the reasons she would not return to Asgard? Was she disappointed in his use of her gift and could not face him about it? The thoughts ignited both anger and distress, the emotions tearing through him like waves crashing into a ship. If she spurned him, if she turned her back and walked away forever, he would truly give up. The pain would be too much, to lose her faith in him would be the last act he would witness.

He worried away in the darkness, unable to do anything else. The boredom that kept him company in the cell did nothing but fan the flames of his anguish. The emptiness that filled his days simply gave him more time to dwell over what he had done. That was the point of his imprisonment, and now he felt he would go mad.

So many faces clouded his mind. Odin's look of dismay when he held him over the edge of the Bifrost, Thor's anger during the war on Midgard, Freyja's despair while they argued, his mother's sadness as he returned to Asgard. But it wasn't just the faces that drove him to hopelessness; it was the voices that echoed from his memories.

Everything everyone had ever said about him, every threat or name, haunted him in a way he could not escape. Instead of fighting the words, he let them wash over him. Was he truly a monster? He felt disgusted at the answer. In recent years, he had yielded to his more sinister instincts and allowed his darkest side to show through. But his menace had only magnified when he met the Other.

He now knew what had happened. Thanos had contaminated his mind with traces of the Tesseract. Loki knew what he felt, but he could not determine what the Tesseract was. It held so many things he could not quite explain. It had shown him so much knowledge, things he had never imagined to be until they were revealed. But it also fueled him with the power it held. Not only was it power, but he felt anger, jealousy, and vengefulness that was not his own. He still felt a little of it, but he could handle the small dose.

He thought about what Freyja had told him of the Tesseract, which had gone by the name of 'The Muse' when roughly translated from her own language. He guessed the name came from the amount of hidden knowledge shown, what he saw was only a small fraction. Now that he thought of it, Freyja had not told him much about it. What she had told him was a collection of vague hints that danced along the edges of the truth but never dove in.

He didn't hold it against her, though. She had sworn in her own language that she would guard the secrets to her last breath. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen if she broke her vow. There was a reason many did not curse or vow in the language of the Vanir, it would always come true. If she had told him then, his actions would have deemed him unworthy of the knowledge and she would have died an excruciating death known as "the Castigation". The punished would not even find peace in the afterlife, the penalty carried on for eternity.

It was why people of all the realms feared the language of the Vanir. Such a language was more than words, it was a promise of the truth that was, or would become, reality. Even after Freyja had perfected the Awakening process for those not of Vanaheim, few became sorcerers for fear of the deadly language.

Although he was not one to hold his tongue, Loki believed it critical to monitor his words carefully. It had been one of his first lessons. She had taught him so much, and he had thrown it away. He had squandered her precious gift on a quest for power.

He groaned as he found the circle in his mental conversation with himself. Everything seemed to circle back in on itself, and all of it was in some way connected to Freyja. Everything traced back to her. It had been that way since he saw found her crying in her chambers over her father's lies about her true mother. Ever since that night, he found a need within himself to never see her so shattered again. He became ravenous for her joy, and everything was linked to her. Even himself.

They had always been friends, since the day he saw her in his mother's garden, looking more at home with the silent plants than the people around her. When she had left for her trip, he had missed her greatly. She was, then, his best and closest friend. It was only when she returned that his feelings escalated into something deeper.

He had been thoroughly surprised when she kissed him that night in the rain. Every answer she had given him that night had led him to believe the man she loved was a friend of his, he had not realized she meant him until she made it clear. He almost hadn't kissed her that night. After all, who was he to attempt to pursue her? Prince Loki courting Princess Freyja of Vanaheim, _the _goddess of love? It was unthinkable, and yet he had taken the risk anyway.

If he was surprised at the kiss, he was scandalized when she had taken him to her bed that first night. He was completely unprepared for such a sudden turn of events, even though she was not the first woman he had been to bed with. He regretted his short love affair with Sigyn, as she had heard rumors about him and Freyja and then tried to spite the two. She had been a trivial companion of the night until he realized she was not good for him.

He wasn't fond of Sigyn's attitude, either. She was a vain, fickle woman who had serious attachment problems. _Goddess of fidelity_, he thought, _more alike to the goddess of jealousy and obsession_. She had tried to visit him since he returned, but he had told the guards not to allow her in. Freyja didn't believe Loki had any feelings for Sigyn, but he didn't need more problems.

Problems, problems, and more problems; they seemed to follow him around wherever he went. Sure, he was the god of mischief and lies, but that did not mean he didn't like the occasional trouble-free day. Mischief and romance, Thor had once said that the mix was a disaster in the making. In reality, it had created quite a fun combination. Freyja was very open to mischief, and he was addicted to her love. For a spiritual person, she was very carnal in their relationship.

He wondered if she ever missed the nights they stole together, if she ever longed for his companionship. _Please don't make this harder for me than it already is_, she had pleaded to him when he had kissed her. She obviously did wish to be with him again but, as she had said before, they could not see each other while he was locked up. How could he gain Odin's trust once more? Was it possible?

He laughed, quiet and humorless, at the question. He knew the answer: not likely. Was there a way to atone for his crimes without spilling his blood? He wondered what Freyja would do if the current Asgardian Council decided his punishment would be death. No doubt she would return to Asgard, bicker with Odin aggressively, and leave once she was certain his life would be spared.

What would his punishment be? He had been sitting in this cell for roughly six months now from what Freyja had said. What was taking so long? Would his punishment be death or something lingering? The waiting drove him mad. He wished Odin would simply make up his mind.

He suddenly wondered what Freyja was doing on Midgard. Was she examining the damage he had caused? Was she disappointed in his actions, maybe even disgusted? She hadn't seemed upset with him since the first day, but she was an expert at hiding secrets. What else had she – wait…

He opened his eyes suddenly, looking around in the pitch black. Something was different. It shouldn't be so dark, nor so quiet. He stood up and walked to the edge of his cell, peering through the bars. His eyes widened as he realized what was different: the Tesseract was missing. Where had it disappeared to? How long had it been gone? Who had taken it?

He could have sworn it had been there that morning. Yes, he was sure it had been there while he spoke with Freyja. So it had disappeared during his contemplations after. What was Odin going to do when he found out? Would the guards even notice? A new question popped into his head: should he tell Freyja? She would definitely need to know if something happened to it, as it was her job to protect it.

He backed up and sat down on the cold floor, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. Concentrating with his entire mind, he projected his being as Freyja had taught him. It was difficult for him to detach his consciousness from his body and channel it elsewhere. The sensation was strange and, unlike personal transportation and astral projection, he was not particularly good at it. Extending his mind was one thing, separating was another.

He found Midgard fairly quickly, but he wasn't familiar with the setting. He guessed she had to be somewhere near the area he had launched his attack, but that didn't make it any easier to find her. He was surprised at just how many humans could be crammed into one city, much less a small apartment. How did they ever get any privacy?

He nearly missed her in the sea of individuals that peppered the city. She was in the very top of what he recognized as Stark Tower. Envy ran through him until he realized Stark was in a separate room. He then felt guilty for even imagining Freyja would be unfaithful. Both of them were asleep in their rooms which lay on opposite sides of the penthouse.

As he projected himself into her chambers, he brushed against her familiar psyche. Her mind was a strange labyrinth of twisting tendrils that coiled in on themselves. He found it bewildering and somewhat nauseating to enter her mind.

Creating an image of himself, Loki looked around the room. It was smaller than her old chambers, but larger than his cell. She was lying on her side, a peaceful expression on her face. She looked so much calmer than when he had seen her lately, as if the memories she relived in her sleep were happier than the time she lived in now.

He could feel a source of incredible power in the room, and he instantly realized she had retaken the Tesseract. This meant that she would leave Midgard soon. He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek, wishing he could take her place. He would give anything to have her safe in Asgard instead of running through the Nine Realms.

Out of curiosity, he delved into her mind to see what she was remembering.

She was lying on the Bifrost with him, looking at the stars through sleepy eyes. He sat down next to the younger version of himself, listening to them speak.

"Will you tell me a story?" she whispered groggily.

"Your stories are much more interesting," the younger Loki replied.

"I prefer your voice."

He laughed, "Alright. Give me a minute…"

Loki knew what memory this was. He also knew that he never managed to finish the story, either. He had continued many times, but never was able to complete it.

"When the Nine Realms were still young, but after the Stars had retreated into the heavens, there were two beings called Sun and Moon. The Wise One had created them to light up the skies along with the stars.

"Sun was a radiant woman with coiling flames for hair and brilliant blue eyes that made the sky turn pale with envy. She was loved by all for her compassion and parity. It was said that her beauty was only matched by her kind heart. She had many admirers.

"Moon was very different from Sun. He was paler and strange in the eyes of the people. His only companions were the Stars with whom he shared the skies. He had only seen glimpses of Sun, as the only time they so much as caught sight of each other was when Sun was setting and Moon was rising.

"One evening, Moon saw Sun crying as she set and asked the stars why. They told him it was because she wanted something she could not have. The next morning, as Sun was rising, Moon called across the world and asked Sun what it was she wanted most. She yelled back a single word and he wanted to ask her about it, but he had to leave. All day, Moon thought about what Sun wanted most-"

"What did Sun want?" she muttered.

"Freedom. But Moon could not understand what she meant. Sun was able to dance across the skies for all eternity, she was loved by all. How was it that she was not free? When evening came again, Moon asked if she was free. She answered no. When he asked how she was not free, it was too late. Sun had set once more.

"Moon asked the stars how Sun was not free. They told him that she was bound by the world to walk the same line for the rest of time, she was never allowed to stray from her path. They said that she was lonely, so Moon came up with a plan.

"Every night, Moon would steadily change his path. Now, Moon had a little more time with Sun to ask her questions. He would ask her about what happened during the day, whether she felt happy, even if she wished she could do something different. One day she asked him why he wanted to know so much, he replied that he would answer her question during the next day.

"During the late afternoon, Moon managed to change his path so that he would cross Sun's. When they met at their crossroads, he kissed her. She was surprised, but she didn't have enough time to say anything, for she had to set once more."

He watched as his younger self looked over at Freyja. She looked so much happier than she did presently. Although her eyes were closed, a smile played across her lips. He ached for such a time. He wished he could see her again, more than through mental projections. However, his past self smiled as he looked over Freyja.

"You're tired."

"Your point being?" she mumbled.

"I should take you back to the palace."

"I like it out here. Please finish the story."

"Perhaps later," he sighed as he scooped her up. "At this moment, you need sleep."

"I can walk," she protested weakly.

"I'm sure you can, but I doubt you can make it to the palace in this state."

Loki stood up at the same time the past Loki stood. He knew the memory would end soon, as she had fallen asleep in his arms within a matter of minutes. He wanted to influence her process of memories, to make it happier so that she could have at least a night of peace.

He rifled through her memories while the remainder of the current one played out. The memories of her father, her world, and the Tesseract were the ones he pushed away as he knew they would bring her strife in the morning. He finally settled on the celebration of the Night of the Wolf. It wasn't a particular favorite of his, but he knew she had always enjoyed the festivities.

He pulled himself out of her mind and sat on the bed next to her. All of her rings lay on the bedside table beside her, all except her emerald ring which still lay on her left ring finger. He marveled at the fact that she wore it in the way a woman wore a wedding ring. Did this mean that she would marry him if given the chance? Or did it simply mean she cherished her relationship with him above her other ties?

She shifted in her sleep, a small smile spread across her face. He leaned in to her, close enough to whisper.

"Will you forgive me for all I have done wrong?" he breathed. "Will you accept me for what I have become?"

He placed his hand over hers, allowing the very little energy he had to seep into the precious gem of her ring. He may not be able to give her much, but he could at least still give her his strength.

"I'm sorry I cannot be everything you deserve," he continued, not sure why he was saying this. "I just wish I could be everything you need."

He backed away as she turned her head a little, unsure of what he should do now. She looked exhausted, both mentally and physically, in a way he had never seen. He wanted to wake her, to comfort her from all she'd been through. But he knew he shouldn't disturb her.

He returned to Asgard without a second glance. If it were up to him, he would stay until she woke. He would simply lay beside her as they had when they simply longed for each other's company. If he did that, however, a guard was bound to realize his body was no more than an empty shell.

As he blinked quickly, trying to get his eyes to adjust back to the darkness, Loki couldn't help wonder what time of day or night it was. There were no windows in the Vault, and the guards did nothing but curse at him when they did speak. He wasn't even sure when his meager two meals came.

He glanced at the leftovers at the edge of his cell disdainfully, wishing Odin would give him something different. It was always the same: stale bread, watered down broth and a measly cup of water. He wasn't even given the dignity to wear his own clothes. A faded green cloth shirt that hung like a sheet on him and black leather trousers were all he was given. A Prince who lived in a prison cell, ate food fit for barge rats, and wore peasants' clothing. Some prince he had turned out to be.

He clambered onto the metal slab again and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes drooped with lethargy, the price of the strength he gave Freyja was catching up with him. It wasn't long before he drifted off into sleep, a strange dream filling his head.

Freyja stood in a sea of blue, clouds floating by around her. Something seemed slightly different about her. She certainly looked happier, brighter in the sense she was ecstatic. He watched her from across the strange expanse of blue, a smile creeping across his face.

She twirled around in the unorthodox dance the Vanir were known for. When she spotted him, she smiled and waved. He walked towards her as she ran. The strange emptiness of blue was easy to walk on, much to his surprise, and it wasn't long before they had reached each other.

Her grin widened as she laced the fingers of her right hand through his. She used her hold on him to reach upward, tilting her face to meet his, and kiss him softly. Her skin burned where it touched his, but he didn't mind. When he pulled away, her enchanting blue eyes sparkled with pure joy.

He closed his eyes, grinning crookedly, and leaned in to kiss her once more. When her lips were no more than a centimeter away, she exhaled sharply. His eyes snapped open as he watched what happened next in horror.

Her eyes were dim, pain and emptiness shining through to the surface. Her face went slack and she began to fall, her hand slipping out of his. He tried to scream, to grab her hand and stop her descent. A hand clamped down around his jaw, another pulling him back. He struggled to help her, but the arms that held him were like iron.

"I warned you, Odinson," a cold voice whispered. "You may be locked away in your little city, but your lovely Princess is not out of my reach. Once I have her, and the Tesseract, I will come for you. But I won't kill you, no. I will be merciful, locking you in adjacent cells.

"I will allow you to comfort her through bars after whatever tortures that please me are inflicted upon her. I will allow you to hear her screams that will pierce through the silence as they once did. And when I have finished with her, I will allow you to mourn over her mangled body. Perhaps I will even allow you to watch as her corpse rots away, her beauty slowly lost. That will be your punishment for your failure, Asgardian. I warned you, Odinson, but you did not listen."


	16. Chapter 15: One Last Dance

_"Pick the day. Enjoy it - to the hilt. The day as it comes. People as they come... The past, I think, has helped me appreciate the present - and I don't want to spoil any of it by fretting about the future."_

_ -Audrey Hepburn_

* * *

Freyja stood in the elevator, waiting for it to reach the penthouse. She couldn't help thinking about the strange feeling she had got when she woke up. Something had seemed different, not anything major but definitely different. On top of that, the night itself had been strange.

Not a single unpleasant memory had haunted her in the night. She found herself humming a tune from one of the memories while thinking over the Night of the Wolf. She remembered teaching Loki the dances, which were very different from that of the Asgardians. He had been thoroughly out of breath when the festivities had finished, but he had been a skilled dancer.

She had spent the day out, trying to enjoy what she knew to be her last few days on Midgard. She had decided she would still leave by her ship, which she had noticed the agents had repaired. They were trying to learn from the designs, but their research would have to be cut short. She simply had to find out how to get the ship out without attracting attention.

The elevator doors slid open and Freyja walked out. She stopped short as a woman came gliding down the hall that led to Tony's room. She watched the woman, who froze when she saw Freyja, trying to guess who she might be. Shoulder-length orange-blonde hair and gray eyes. She smiled, a name coming to mind.

"You must be the famous Pepper Potts I've been hearing about," she said.

"And you're Freyja, right?"

"Correct."

Pepper smiled in return, "I heard you and Tony got into a little spat while I was gone. Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she answered, smirking. "I took care of that yesterday."

"Alright, then. I know how Tony can get…"

"It's perfectly alright. I knew beforehand what I was getting into."

"Mm-hmm," Pepper trailed off for a second. "So, you're the goddess of love?"

"I am the patron goddess of love to your people, but I wouldn't say I am a goddess."

"I thought Asgardians were gods."

Freyja shook her head, "The Asgardians believe they are gods, but my people believed us to be no more than another species."

"Oh. I heard you were good with love problems…" Pepper started hesitantly.

She exhaled, "Personally, I have enough problems with my own romance. But I suppose I might be able to help, as I have before. It is about Tony, correct?"

"How did you-"

"It is plainly obvious that he has strong feelings for you, but he does not quite know how to display them."

"Oh."

"What is it that is on your mind?"

"You said Tony…'has strong feelings for me', but…"

"You wish to know what to do about it?"

"I want to know if it's worth trying to do something about it."

"Tony is a difficult man, but he seems also the kind of man to lighten a foul mood. He may be a bit childish and yet I've noticed he tends to mature on subjects that are important to him. If you can make Tony more practical simply by being present in his thoughts, you have my respect. I believe it would be well worth it if you tried to create a stronger relationship between the two of you. But let me give you a fair warning: love may be easy, but relationships can be difficult."

Pepper paused, "So you're saying that a relationship with Tony would be frustrating?"

"Every relationship has highs and lows. You may find yourself at wit's end with him, but I believe he truly cares about you. He is simply unsure how to show it."

"So, you had your ups and downs with Loki?"

Freyja looked up, startled, "Tony told you that, did he?"

Pepper nodded, "But Steve explained some things to me after."

She smiled, "That man is truly strange. He reminds me of someone I once knew… But, yes, we had many ups and downs."

"The god of mischief with the goddess of love," the woman mused. "What was that like?"

"Exhilarating, there are no two days alike. He presents a new adventure every time the sun rises."

"Was he sweet?"

"Loki can be exceptionally romantic, and you should see him with his children."

"Loki has children? So the myths are true?"

"Yes, three children. The twins, Fenrir and Jormungand, and his daughter, Hel. They're gems, all of them, although Jormungand is as much of a trouble-maker as his father."

"Isn't Jorgmungand a snake and Fenrir a wolf?"

Freyja laughed, "Of course not. Jorgmungand is cunning, and sometimes referred to as a serpent, and Fenrir is strong and silent as a wolf. Perhaps your people have mistranslated our stories."

"So Hel isn't half-dead?"

"Well, that is due to an unfortunate accident during the pregnancy. She's such a sweet girl, but people often judge her on her appearance."

Freyja opened the fridge to find it almost bare, "Does he ever eat here? It seems I always find this contraption empty."

"You mean the fridge? Yeah, the only thing he keeps in there is liquor."

She nodded, "Has he always been so accustomed to drink?"

"Pretty much."

"I thought as much," she said, closing the fridge. "Oh, and forgive me if Tony gives you any trouble about his suit."

Pepper looked confused, "Why would he give me trouble about his suit?"

Freyja grinned, "Let's leave it as it's been recently modified."

"Okay, then. I should get going," Pepper said, walking towards the door.

"It was a pleasure meeting you."

"You, too," and the elevator door closed.

Freyja checked the cabinets in vain, sighing, "What I wouldn't do for some of Ottar's pastries…"

"Who's whats?"

She looked up to see Tony walking in, black hair slightly disheveled. He wore a Black Sabbath tee and jeans that looked like they had been attacked by a cat.

"Ottar's pastries. Back in Asgard, I had a friend named Ottar who worked in the kitchens. He was a baker."

"Mm. So, Loki _does _have kids?"

"Exactly how long have you been eavesdropping?"

"Since you said something about no two days with Loki are the same," he shrugged. "Let me ask you a few questions that have been bothering me."

"So long as they are not offensive," she answered.

"Norse mythology says that Loki was married to Angrboda, then to Sigyn. Where do you fit in with all this?"

"Your people seem to have stretched the truth greatly. Loki was indeed married to Angrboda, but their marriage was short-lived as she died giving birth to Hel. They were married for a total of two years, both years I was away on my journey. In his angst, he became Sigyn's lover for a time but found she made his pain worse. Despite their many nights spent together, they never married. But she grew attached, and made it obvious she wished to marry him."

He gave a low whistle as a response, "And how do you know all this?"

"Loki may be the god of lies, but he has never hidden anything from me that he thought I should know. He believed I should know about Sigyn when she became increasingly persistent while we courted."

"Okay. Next question: was it uncomfortable that Loki had children that weren't yours?"

"Of course not. Angrboda was there before me, and I respect that she made a claim. Besides, his children are practically my own."

"Uh-huh. Here's my last question: did you know that Loki mothered a horse, according to legend?"

She raised her eyebrows, "That sounds highly unlikely. Loki was always one for trouble, but what you speak of is not his style. He may have enjoyed shape-shifting, but changing genders is completely different. Full gender transmutation, on top of species metamorphosis, is extremely difficult and rarely completed. For example: I could, as of this moment, take your form. But I would not have your DNA and I would not have male gametes, therefore I would not be fully male."

"Um, too much information. I asked a simple question and expected a simple answer. I didn't need the whole biology lesson."

"And what are you expecting from me if you ask the question that bothers you so?" she asked, grinning.

"Once again: a simple, detail-free answer."

"In that case," she began, her grin growing at his discomfort, "Loki was very satisfying in that department."

"I did _not _really need to know that."

"You should not have asked, then. Is it my fault you ask intimate questions?"

"It is when I don't ask them _out loud_."

"Speaking of intimacy, when and how are you going to make your claim on Pepper?"

He paled, "There's nothing to claim."

"I am the goddess of love, Tony. I know when a man is in love."

"And you knew that Loki was in love?"

She sighed, "I knew he loved me, just not in the way I wanted. Not until later. But that is despite the point. If you don't make it more obvious to Pepper that you care about her, and I know you do, she's going to lose interest. Women are not available for eternity, even immortal women, which Pepper is decidedly not."

The doors to the elevator slid open before Tony could reply, revealing a surprised Bruce. He stared at the two, Freyja smiling widely as Tony looked thoroughly taken aback. Bruce raised his eyebrows.

"Do I want to know what's going on here?" he asked, tentatively.

"It matters not," Freyja answered dismissively. "Can we help you?"

He held up his phone, "Tony texted."

"Yes, we're going out as a goodbye party for Freyja."

She turned to him, shocked, "We are?"

"Yep, my treat."

"Just the three of us?" Bruce asked.

"Well, I do have a few other people coming. Katniss said he's actually gotten on your good side. Is that true?"

"Who?" she asked.

"I think he means Clint," Bruce answered.

"Ah, yes. We settled a few things not too long ago. I'm afraid Natasha and I, however, have yet to meet on equal ground."

"Oh, well. That still leaves us guys. Think you can handle five men?"

Freyja grinned at the challenge, "I'm sure I can manage. But, tell me, how are you inviting Thor? He does not have a cell phone, as you call it."

"But his girlfriend does."

"Wait," Bruce spoke up. "We're throwing a going away party with just Freyja, Clint, Steve, Thor, and us?"

"Well, Thor's girlfriend is coming. I would invite Pepper but she has a flight to catch."

"Where are we going?" she asked, curious at what Tony's plans were.

"A club called the Kiss and Fly. Now, come on. We have a night to spend!"

He wrapped one arm around Freyja's waist, draped the other around Bruce's shoulders, and pulled them into the elevator. He pushed the button for the lobby with the hand he wrapped around Freyja's waist, allowing her to put a little space between him and herself.

"So, you're leaving soon?" Bruce asked.

"On the morrow, most likely."

"And yet she has no idea where she's going, do you?"

"Actually, I have half a mind to go to Jotunheim and have Thanos trail after me through the frozen wastelands. Just as recompense for the destruction he has caused to me."

Tony raised his eyebrows, "Spiteful bitch, aren't you?"

She grinned again, shrugging, "Recently, yes. Perhaps your attitude is rubbing off on me."

Bruce laughed and Tony let them both go as the doors opened. The three walked through the lobby and out into the night air. Tony's chauffeur, Happy, was waiting next to the limo for them. He opened the door, earning a smile from Freyja, and closed it after the three had gotten in.

"Where to, sir?" he asked when he got behind the wheel.

"The Kiss and Fly," he then turned to Freyja. "And you are going to have a drink."

"Maybe one or two."

* * *

Loud pop music blared with the walls of the club, the bass reverberating through the floor. The room was painted different hues of blue, pink, purple and green by the lights that randomly flashed throughout the place. Tony, Bruce, Freyja, Clint, Thor, Jane, and Steve sat at a round booth, laughing over theirs drinks.

Freyja found that Jane was very easy to get along with and was even interested in the sciences she could learn from the Vanir. After Tony interrupted the two, saying that they were there for a party and not research, all talk of science changed to old stories.

"I have one for you, but Thor's not going to enjoy it," Freyja said with a grin. "And I assure you that none of you have heard it."

Thor looked up, pointing his finger at her in warning, "This had better not be what I think it is."

She laughed, "Oh, calm yourself. It's no more than a good laugh."

"What happened?" Tony asked.

"Well, Thor's hammer, Mjolnir, is something of legend for the Nine Realms. Many have longed to have it, including a Jotun, or Frost Giant, named Thrim. Now, there has been many a morning when Thor wakes up to find that Loki has hidden Mjolnir during the night. At this point, being the second morning in a row for Mjolnir to have gone missing, Thor is furious and demands Loki to give it back. Loki, who had not touched the hammer since the day before, argued that he had not taken it and Thor would not be able to find it if it lay at the foot of his bed.

"I ran into the two arguing and asked what was going on. They explained the situation, not excluding bias, and I convinced Thor that Loki was not lying. I offered Loki my cloak which allows one to teleport from the place of origin to the next, so long as one has the strength to do so. He used it to search the Nine Realms for Mjolnir.

"It was on these travels that he came across Thrim, who bragged that he had stolen and hidden Mjolnir. He told Loki that no one would find it unless I was brought to him to be his wife. Loki returned to Asgard and told Thor, who immediately made his way to my chambers.

"It was late in the night and I was about to retire for the day when Thor knocks on my door. As soon as I open it, he tells me to dress in a wedding gown and veil and to get ready to go to Jotunheim with him. I was not in the best of moods to begin with seeing as I was exhausted from a long day and Thor's demands simply insulted me. I yelled at him for saying something so folly and slammed the door.

"I was called for a meeting with Odin, not much later, to discuss with the other gods on how to retrieve Mjolnir. During the argument, where many said I should go, I jested that since Thor was Hel-bent on my going to Jotunheim, he should dress as me and take back his hammer himself. Loki agreed that it was a good plan, and I added that Loki could go as a bridesmaid.

"Now it was Loki and Thor arguing against the rest of us who all thought it was a brilliant idea, although it was more for just seeing the Princes dressed for a wedding. It was decided and I helped dress Thor in a bridal gown and veil along with Loki. We shaved Thor's beard and covered his entire face except for his eyes. Loki was a tad bit simpler to dress."

"So you two dressed in drag?" Clint laughed.

"Actually, Loki transformed himself into a woman for the occasion, just I took the form of one of my chambermaids."

"Wait, but how did- what did you do for-" Steve stumbled over his words, gesturing towards his chest.

Freyja laughed, understanding what he meant, "That was a fairly difficult part in dressing Thor. We used multiple layers of cloth as there is no spell for such a thing and it is nearly impossible to transform someone else into another form.

"Eventually, I decided to go as well, for I knew the two were sure to botch things in some way. So, there we are, sitting in Thrim's hall over a meal as we discuss how the wedding shall take place. While Loki and I work out the details, Thor gorges himself on the food and mead. Loki, as silver-tongued as ever, says the reason for 'her' appetite is that the Vanir have just finished a week long fasting ritual we perform every decade. This quells Thrim's surprise until he announces that it is time to retire and before we know it, he has pulled back Thor's veil and is kissing him on the lips."

The giggles that had been suppressed earlier now broke out into laughter as no one could keep silent. Thor had turned red in the face and was muttering something unintelligible as Jane laughed too.

"Before Loki and I can respond, Thor balls his fist and knocks Thrim to the ground. The guards' faces were priceless at the sight of their master sprawled across the floor, looking dazed. Thor, who had suffered through enough of the charade at this point, demands that Thrim returns Mjolnir.

"Within seconds, we're battling our way through the entire house of Jotuns."

"I thought you said you're a pacifist," Tony pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, "I may be, but I can defend myself. I choose not to start fights, but I cannot avoid all of them."

"So, what happened?" Jane asked, looking at Thor expectedly.

He smiled, "Well, Loki, Freyja and I were quite a team back then. I with Mjolnir and Loki and Freyja with magic; we were unstoppable. Freyja would keep up the defenses, creating shields and the like, while Loki distracted the enemies with projections of himself and I did the real fighting."

"Oh, please. You did nothing but hit a few Jotuns over the head with Mjolnir. Just admit it, if Loki and I had not been there, you would have never gotten out of there in one piece."

"I don't mean to interrupt, but if you'll excuse me…" Tony stood up, trailing after a blonde in a skimpy pink dress.

Clint shook his head, "He doesn't have a chance."

Bruce laughed.

"He may not, but I believe I do," Thor said, standing up.

He held his hand out for Jane, who took it and walked off to the floor. Freyja smiled as she watched them.

"I'm glad he has finally found a woman who he can settle down with. It is strange, though, to see him with the same woman for more than a night," she mused.

"Do you think it will work out, though?" Steve asked. "With him being immortal?"

"I believe it will work in the end. She will simply have to succeed in the challenge Odin will set before her. I do feel sorry for Sif, however…"

"Sif?"

"A warrior maiden who we both count as a friend. She has always had a soft spot for Thor."

"Oh."

"By the way," she said, directing her attention to Clint. "When are you going to do something about Natasha?"

"What do you mean?"

"That woman has a complicated view of the world, but there is one thing that she remains certain of."

"And what would that be?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That she can always rely on you, no matter the circumstance."

He stayed silent, unsure of what to say. Steve, on the other hand, stood up and offered his hand to her.

"Freyja, would you mind if I stole a dance from you, seeing as this is your last night here?"

She looked at him in surprise, "I do not know how to dance to this music…"

He shrugged, "Neither do I."

She thought about it for a second, then decided it was a harmless request and stood up. She took his hand with a smile and allowed him to lead her onto the floor, leaving a chuckling Clint behind.

Steve, she found, was very awkward and highly self-conscious, putting too much thought into the smallest thing. He turned her towards him, placing his free hand on her waist. A look of uncertainty crossed his face and he moved his hand to her lower back. Another moment of hesitation and he moved his hand up to her mid-back. She smiled as he sent her a questioning look.

"Would you laugh if I told you I've never actually danced before?"

"Of course not."

He nodded, leading her into a slow dance that didn't match what was currently playing through the club.

"What if I told you I've only danced this way once before, and it was when Loki taught me Asgardian dancing?"

A smile, "I'd say we're pretty much on the same page."

He accidentally stepped on her foot within the next minute. A horrified look crossed his face.

She smiled, "Do you think I will scorn you for one misstep? Relax, and you will find it easier."

"There's actually something I wanted to ask you…" he started, looking down at his feet. "But I thought it may be better to ask you where no one can hear."

Her smile faltered, not quite liking the way he said it, "Go ahead."

"Well, Tony said-"

And now it was gone completely, "Nothing good comes from the sentence that begins with 'Tony said'."

"It's just…It seems like you only truly talk to me, I'm the only one you give straight answers to."

"Not quite. Clint has received straight answers."

"Yeah, but did you tell him anything about Loki or yourself."

"Vague details," she conceded.

"Exactly. The others wonder why you trust me more than anyone else. Thor says it's because you see something in me, but Tony thinks it's because…"

"Because?"

"Because you…like me."

"Why would I not like you?"

"No, as in," he took a deep breath, looking extremely flustered. "Hethinksyou'vegottenoverLokiandlikemeins tead."

"I didn't catch a word of that…"

He sighed, "Tony thinks you no longer love Loki, and that you talk to me because you- that you've fallen for me, instead."

Her face turned into a mask of emptiness, as it had whenever she had met with her father. Inside, her thoughts were scrambling madly around in her head.

"Have you fallen for me?" he asked cautiously.

She sighed, hoping fervently _he_ hadn't fallen for _her_, "There is no easy way to say this…Tony is wrong. I trust you more, not because I prize you as more than a friend, but because you remind me of my brother."

"Oh," he said, relieved.

"My brother, Freyr, was the only true family I had, the only blood-relative who cared. He looked out for me and always listened whenever something troubled me. He was like you in many ways, and I find myself comforted that there is someone here who listens now that he no longer can."

"So, Thor was right."

"Yes. You'll find, despite his own beliefs, Tony can be wrong quite often. Is that all that was bothering you?"

He nodded, smiling sheepishly.

"It was kind of silly, come to think of it. You really have a lot of faith in Loki."

She smiled in return, enjoying how the topic had turned light once more. Her smile disappeared, however, when something just past Steve caught her eye. In the middle of the crowds of people 'dancing' to the beat, she could see a figure which stood still as stone, watching her. Her eyes traveled up the long, lean form she knew so well until they met with emerald eyes full of sadness and a pang of jealousy.

It was Loki, in the middle of a night club, wearing a Midgardian suit, watching her intently. He still looked a bit emaciated, but with his outfit and hair slicked back from his face, he looked presentable. A gold and green scarf hung loosely around his neck, tying in his colors along with the black suit. His face was a mixture of pain, longing, and a little envy. He sent her a questioning glance before turning around and walking away.

Freyja let go of Steve, rushing towards the direction Loki had disappeared to. It was easier to run in the jeans and tee she wore, but the crowd hindered her progress. She pushed her way past people, desperate to find him, until she reached the door. She walked out, looking for any sign of him. Nothing. He had vanished into thin air.

Steve rushed out a second later, coming to stand just behind her.

"Freyja, what is it? You just stopped and ran out. Did you see something?" he asked, worried.

She was silent for a second, wondering if she truly had seen Loki or if it had just been her imagination. She glanced around one last time before turning to face Steve.

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me. I thought I saw something, but I was wrong."

He sighed in relief, "Okay, you had me worried for a second. Come on, let's go find the rest of the guys."

She allowed Steve to lead her back in, still asking herself what exactly she had seen.


	17. Chapter 16: Lost Confessions

**_Song of the Chapter: Call Me ~ Shinedown_**

* * *

_"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light."_

_ -Helen Keller_

* * *

Steve and Freyja slowly made their way through the crowds back to the booth where they had been sitting. When they returned, they found the table empty. The only sign that there was once a group there was the few empty glasses. Steve and Freyja scanned the crowd, looking for a sign that their friends had not actually left them. Their search was in vain.

"And they deem it appropriate to leave us behind," Freyja sighed. "No doubt Thor and Tony are drunk, Jane is helping Thor, Bruce helping Tony, and Clint has left to check in with Fury."

Steve shook his head, "Very considerate of them."

Freyja smiled, "Nevertheless, I will have to thank them. Tonight was the best I've had in centuries."

"You don't know just how weird that sounds…"

She laughed, "I'm sure a great deal of what I say sounds strange to you."

"So," he said, looking around. "Since everyone has been so thoughtful to leave us here, do you mind if I walk you to Stark Tower? Seeing as you don't know the way, I mean."

"Not at all," she answered as they walked back to the door.

"So what are you going to do after tonight? You're really leaving?"

"I have no other acceptable choice. I will leave for the furthest world from here and go from there."

"And this is what you plan to do for the rest of eternity? You're going to keep running until the end of time?"

She shrugged, "There is nothing else I _can_ do. I could destroy the Tesseract, but I would kill myself and leave Thanos to take out his rage elsewhere. I could lure Thanos into a trap and destroy all three of us, but it would also destroy the surrounding worlds and Loki would be devastated at losing me once more. I suppose I could kill Thanos, but that choice is neither simple nor agreeable."

"What kind of father just dumps that much responsibility on his daughter?"

"A poor one, but a father, nonetheless. I did, however, happen to know a man who was more of a father to me."

He looked at her, surprised, "You mean Thor's father?"

"No, Odin is too much like Njord for my liking. The man I speak of was Algrim, the last of a race known as the Dark Elves."

"How many races have gone extinct?"

"Within the Nine Realms, only the Dark Elves but I fear, with the few Vanir who still live, that my people will fall in the near future."

"What were the Dark Elves?"

Steve felt a bit ashamed at his lack of knowledge on the topic, but Freyja didn't seem to mind. She explained everything anyway, not caring that her listener had little idea of what she spoke of.

"The Dark Elves were the closest species to my own, sharing a similar appearance with us but lacking our skill in magic. They made their home in Svartalfheim, which was far too close to Jotunheim to be safe. They had the same dark skin, angular features, and thin build, if not as thin, as us but had white hair and dark eyes."

"You don't have dark skin…" Steve pointed out.

She put a hand gently on his shoulder and his vision blurred for a second. When he turned to ask her if something was wrong, the words refused to leave his lips at the sight in front of him.

The red-haired, pale-skinned woman that he had known Freyja as had been replaced by a willowy, almost skeletal, woman who towered about a foot over him. She had strange skin that seemed to be a mix of black, purple and blue and straight hair that looked as if it was made of liquid darkness. Her face was longer and lean, the sharp features making her look ethereal and striking. The only thing that reminded him that the strange being before his eyes was Freyja was the otherworldly blue eyes that questioned him silently.

She dropped her hand and she was a human again, but Steve couldn't shake the image of what she truly looked like under the frighteningly realistic façade.

"Was that-"

"My true form. This," she gestured at herself, "is nothing more than a mask.

"As I was saying, the Dark Elves shared many characteristics with us, including our enmity with the Frost Giants. I'm unsure as to why the Dark Elves and Jotuns began the war, but it devastated the race. They went to Odin for help, but he refused.

"Desperate for survival, they enlisted the aid of Surtur, a fire demon with a dwarf-forged sword called Elderstahl. The sword was strong enough to destroy all of Jotunheim, but it also seeks out the worst in the wielder and corrupts them beyond repair. Odin fought to destroy Surtur, as he knew the demon would move on to the other realms once finished with Jotunheim. The demon was killed and the sword lost.

"The war ended there, but the killings did not. The Frost Giants sent glaciers to Svartalfheim where they wiped out all life. Algrim barely survived, but his wife and sons were killed. He journeyed to Asgard, where he became Odin's most trusted advisor. He treated me as a daughter, and I loved him as a child would a parent. I was drawn to him because he showed me a love I never received from my true father."

"So he's still in Asgard?"

"No. He was killed for his crimes against Asgard…"

"Crimes?"

"I left Asgard when I was twelve to travel to each of the Nine Realms for six years, as was the tradition of my people. It was during this time that Loki, Thor, and the Warriors Three journeyed to Jotunheim in search of Elderstahl. They eventually found it, but also started a war between the Jotuns and Asgard.

"In order to keep the peace, Algrim set off to find the group. When he found them, the sword proved too powerful for him. He already harbored much resentment and bitterness towards Asgard for not aiding his people, the sword simply magnified his emotions until all reason was lost. He abandoned the group to confront Odin out of revenge.

"He nearly destroyed the palace out of rage, wishing to cause the fall of the House of Odin. Thor and Loki managed to return before Odin was killed, Thor confronted Algrim while Loki watched over his unconscious father. Algrim was defeated by Thor, but it was Loki who killed him with Elderstahl out of revenge for his gravely wounded father.

"I returned roughly four years later to find that the man I once thought of as family had turned traitor and was mourned by none. None except Loki, Thor and I. Algrim treated us all as if we were his children. I believe Thor and Loki reminded him of his sons."

"Loki killed Algrim?"

She shrugged, "The Asgardians react to threats in unorthodox and rash forms. I would not have killed Algrim, had it been my place, but I understand Loki's actions."

Freyja stopped suddenly, holding out her hand before her. She frowned as a drop hit her palm and looked up at the sky.

"Rain, even the faintest of drizzles, on a night of the new moons, or moon, as it so happens. Do you know what that means?"

He gave her a sideways glance, "We're going to get wet because neither of us have an umbrella?"

She laughed, shaking her head, "Well, I suppose that is one way to perceive it. I meant, do you know how it relates to the future?"

"No…"

"It signals sudden change in the near future. I suppose that pertains to my departure. Speaking of which, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Go ahead."

"I must leave tomorrow, but I fear S.H.I.E.L.D. will not allow it. I need you to create a diversion of sorts so that I may access my jet, as you call it, and leave in peace. Can you aid me in this?"

He shrugged, "Sure. Sounds easy enough. Why won't S.H.I.E.L.D. let you leave, though?"

"Director Fury wishes to glean any amount of knowledge of the Tesseract from me, which I cannot do. He would use the information in a harmful form and I cannot allow that. It would be no better than handing it to Thanos."

"Why does Thanos want the Tesseract so much?"

She looked him up and down and sighed, "If I tell you, you must swear not to speak a word of it to anyone. If the information is used harmfully and the fault is mine, then I will die, as was called for by the oaths I took."

"You're going to tell me?"

"Not all of it. If I were to list its entire contents, we would be here for decades. Besides, I trust you, you're mind and soul are not as fickle as the others. I believe you will not go against your word. The question is, do you trust yourself enough to give your word?"

He nodded, "You have my word."

She inhaled deeply, "The Tesseract carries all of the secrets of the worlds, as well as a mistake of my people. It, like Elderstahl, has the ability to target the wielder's darkest emotions and magnify them until one is consumed by it. Thanos wants it for the worlds it will reveal to him. Not to mention the strength he would gain from it."

"Thanos doesn't know about the Nine Realms?"

She smiled roguishly, "There were never only nine."

"What?"

"The Nine Realms are no more than a grain of sand in a desert. We are infinitesimal in compare.

"There are worlds within worlds; parallel universes that coexist side-by-side and never touch. Dimensions that exist on a different astral plane than our own, each one so close and yet so far. And all of them are shown within the Tesseract."

"And no one else knows about this?"

"Only seven know of it, and three of those seven are dead. You are the eighth to find out. Think of yourself as the unofficial human ambassador of Vanaheim."

He raised his eyebrows, "Me, the ambassador for Earth? I don't think I'm qualified for that."

"Nonsense. You are more qualified than any agent S.H.I.E.L.D. can come up with. You are by far the most rational, unbiased, trustworthy human I have ever come across. And in my time, I have seen many of your people."

"Well, for the record, you're the most peaceful and considerate alien I've ever met."

She laughed, "I can't imagine you've met many peaceful beings of late, what with Asgardians being quite violent."

"Yeah, they haven't exactly gotten us to trust them completely. I mean, look at what's happened so far. First, Thor arrives in New Mexico, bringing a machine called the Destroyer trailing after him, courtesy of a family grudge. Then, Loki comes with hopes of conquering our planet, army in tow. Both incidents have made S.H.I.E.L.D. wary of any alien that decides to turn up for a visit."

"I can't say I blame them. The Destroyer was meant as a device of defense, but the Asgardians used it for war. It was like that for a long time, my people would invent a new technological advancement and the other realms would use it for violence. So we moved Vanaheim to a new branch of Yggdrasil and cloaked it in several layers of incantations. No outsiders have seen Vanaheim in four millennia."

He whistled, "So your people just separated themselves from the rest of the worlds?"

"We were always separated. We are different from the rest of the worlds, created to keep balance between all of the Nine Realms and the Unknown. No matter how comfortable the other races make us in their realms, we will always stand alone. The strange Vanir that keep calm for eternity and make a man lose his will."

"I don't think you're that strange."

She gave him a skeptical look.

He laughed, "I didn't say you weren't kind of weird, I just said you aren't _that_ strange."

"You sound like Loki," she noted sadly.

"Is that one of the reasons you liked him?"

"Hmm?"

"Because you two were different?"

She nodded, "We were, and always will be, two outsiders among the worlds. But it is better to be outcast with another than accepted alone."

"You were an outcast?"

"On top of not being a full Vanir, I am not fully of royal blood. I am the illegitimate daughter of the King of my people and a Light Elf maiden my father met on his travels. I never quite belonged with the rest of the Vanir, as I was marked with elven traits. But I never knew this. No one was brave enough to point it out, but you could still feel the distinction. I volunteered to go to Asgard to escape, were I was welcomed more warmly by Frigga, Loki and Thor."

"They, your own race, were prejudiced against you?"

"I do not blame them. A king should make a better example than to run around siring children when he is married."

"He was married."

"I believe I told you this. He was married to Queen Van, who had just borne him a son. She took her own life when she found that I was her husband's child, devastated that he would betray her in such a way. Freyr never knew the truth, I found out the hard way. I regret that he died believing he was my twin and elder sibling, when the truth is that we were only half-siblings and I am actually the elder."

"What does the timing have to do with anything?"

Her face lost any laughter, turning grim, "I was the elder child, my father's true first-born. If that wasn't enough, he claimed me as his child. By the laws created at the dawn of time, I am the rightful heir to the Vanaheim throne as I was the claimed first-born of the King. Freyr would not have truly received his birthright, as it would have been unlawfully his."

His eyes widened, "You would have been queen?"

"No, my father would have never allowed it. He had to keep to the story he had insinuated. Freyr would have become king, but the ritual of which the crowned heir must go through before coronation would not have worked properly. He was not the true heir, and therefore would never be the rightful ruler. It never bothered me personally, as I never wanted the throne, but it hurt because I knew Freyr would be devastated."

"I thought the Vanir can't lie. How did your father get away with hiding your true identity?"

"He said that I was his daughter, which could not be disputed as it was the truth. He always said my mother died giving birth to me, which was also true. He never told this to anyone else, though, as it would have raised suspicions. He hid all evidence that Freyr was the younger child and I was daughter of an elf. On top of these, he never specifically spoke of to Freyr and I together about our mothers, and therefore evaded ever running into obstacles."

"How did you find out?"

She looked intently at her feet, "I read a few of Queen Van's journals to find out more about my 'mother'. It was there I read of an elf-Vanir baby that my father brought to the palace. Then, she found out and killed herself. I ran off to Alfheim to find out more where I managed to stumble across my aunt. She recognized me, as I had subconsciously taken my mother's form when I went to Asgard. I don't know how I did such a thing, but I suppose the body remembers what the mind forgets.

"She took me to her house and told me everything she knew. She told me of how a handsome Vanir came and fell for my mother. He left and she found she was pregnant. He came for me a week after I was born, and took me to Vanaheim. She gave me my true mother's journals and sketchbooks so I may find out who I really was.

"For a week, I did not speak to my father or brother. I did not even leave my rooms. I refused to have any visitors, refused to eat or sleep. I felt broken, and I found I could find nothing in my heart but numbness. It was three days before I finally allowed Loki to see me, but no one else. He comforted me for the rest of the week, but he could only do so much.

"I eventually left my chambers for Vanaheim where I confronted my father about my revelations. We argued for hours, yelling back and forth between each other. It was from then on our shaky relationship began to deteriorate and crumble. Within two months, I finally had enough and refused to speak to him again. I cut my ties to him and Queen Van and never looked back."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because, I have no one left to tell. I am truly alone, kept away from what remains of my life. I am a wanderer, and sometimes it is better to confide in someone who is little more than a stranger than to keep silent. I am weary, and have nothing to left to look forward to, no happiness to search for. And despite my appearance, I am getting old. In a world where little can be trusted, I tend to cling to what little I can rely on. Forgive me for the information I burden you with. I fear this is the last time I will gain the chance to speak to an unprejudiced being."

"There's nothing to forgive. But there must be someone else you can talk to."

"I can speak to Loki but I fear the more he hears, the more anxiety I will cause him. There is but one other person I can speak to, but I do not wish to disturb him. I have already caused him much trouble."

"Who is this guy?"

"He is the last of a species he calls Curves, a race that could jump between worlds with the blink of an eye. He travels through the Nine Realms occasionally, going by the name Sverre. But his true name is Erland.

"Unfortunately, I know not where he currently is. Also, he is a bit…off. His nickname, which means 'madman', reveals a little of his nature. He tends to dance on the razor's edge between sanity and madness. I do have a way to contact him, but I do not wish to disturb him."

"Only you would know a universe-jumping madman," Steve laughed. "I swear, you say some of the craziest things."

"You think I say outlandish things?" she smiled. "You should here some of the things you say."

"They only sound weird to you," he pointed out.

She laughed, looking around at the few people who stared while they passed. Her mirth subsided when she caught a glimpse of green eyes across the street. She stopped, turning to look at a figure that could be none other than Loki. But Loki could not truly be there, she knew.

He stood rigidly against the window of a closed store, posture revealing his discomfort. He wore the same suit as when she saw him earlier as well as the same expression. His jaw was set angrily, at what she couldn't tell, and his eyes glittered with betrayal.

"Freyja, are you okay?"

She turned to Steve, "Do you see him?"

He glanced in the direction she had been staring, "Who? There's no one over there…"

She turned her head to see no one across from them. What was going on? Was she going crazy? Was the stress finally getting to her?

"He was just there…" she murmured.

"We'd better get back to Stark Tower, I think the night's starting to get to your head."

"Perhaps," she conceded grudgingly.

He took her arm, surprising her, and led her down the street again. She immediately thought about Loki at the touch. Her mind brought up memories of dancing with him and of sitting under the stars at night, defying her father's wishes. She greatly missed those days, before everything had quickly begun to fall apart.

It had started with her kidnapping, three weeks on some long-forgotten world that she barely managed to escape. She hid the Tesseract on Earth to prevent another catastrophe, but then Vanaheim was attacked not long after. Her life was in ruin, but she supposed it was better than no life at all.

She shook her head, trying to break away from the morbid thoughts. _That was then_, she told herself, _and this is now._ And yet, if magic gave her the ability to go back in time, she would live in her past. But that wasn't option, as she knew very well.

"Steve," she started, thinking about the knowledge she had just given him.

"Yeah?"

"There is something I must give you," she answered, retrieving the object through magic.

She held it in her palm so he could see. It was an obsidian pendant in the shape of a howling wolf from the side, fashioned so that is looked more like a silhouette. A thin silver chain was attached to it, each link inscribed with graceful runes.

"Uh, I'm not sure what they did in Vanaheim, but jewelry on men isn't exactly common here. Especially jewelry like that."

She rolled her eyes, "It is not a simple necklace, it is an amulet. You're going to need the protection it entails, or trouble will seek you out for the knowledge I have given you."

He looked at her skeptically, taking it carefully.

"Wear it on your person at all times and no spiritual or mental harm shall befall you."

"Isn't it the physical harm I should worry about?"

"Not anymore. Welcome to my world of shadows and reality. You may be bruised, beaten, cut, and broken, but you are not truly harmed until the sanctity of your mind has been defiled. Your body is temporary, your mind and soul are eternal. The fight is not over until your spirit has been lost."

He looked at her worriedly, tucking the necklace into his pocket. The way she was speaking made him think that she was saying this out of experience. He wondered how much she had truly told him. Her tone, however, was beginning to scare him a bit. She looked more exhausted than ever, and her rambling and staring at nothing was not reassuring. He knew they were close to Stark Tower, but he began wondering whether Freyja would make it that far.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I feel fine, honestly. I'm simply dreading tomorrow."

He nodded, not quite believing her.

"Do you ever think of Peggy?" she asked suddenly.

He stared at her in shock.

"I don't mean to reopen old wounds, but I am curious."

"Yeah, I think about her every day."

She nodded, "Do you ever wonder what could have been if fate had not been so cruel?"

"You're not really asking _me_, are you?"

"No," she conceded.

"So, what is your answer?"

"…I try not to, but I can't help but wonder."

He nodded, "So, when do you want me to distract S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Meet me at Stark Tower at nine in the morning, and we shall journey to the base together."

"Okay," he answered as they turned the corner to see the tower not ten feet before them.

"Thank you for accompanying me," she said, inclining her head slightly. "And forgive me for what I have worried you with."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," she muttered, being careful to only touch the glass door by the steel handle.

She shuffled into the elevator, wishing, not for the first time, that she could freeze time. She couldn't count the number of times she had fought her weariness and started on her journey again. It was tiring. She would become comfortable in one place for a week, only to find her strength to leave waning. The tediousness of the reoccurring situation was enough to push her over the edge. And yet she clung desperately to the little strength she had.

She cursed her father silently, wishing he had a heart enough to not condemn her to such punishment. Death would be welcome at this point, but she could not leave the worlds to Thanos's wrath.

The elevator opened as it reached the penthouse. She walked out quietly, making sure not to wake the sleeping Bruce on the couch. As she closed the door of her borrowed rooms behind her, she became aware of a familiar presence.

Her head snapped in the direction of the corner of the room. In the shadows, she could just make out the figure of a man. He was sitting on a wooden chair, head hanging dejectedly. He shifted, and she caught a glimpse of deep blue.

"So, the soldier…" a low, familiar voice trailed off.

Her eyes widened as she realized who it was.

"Loki?"


	18. Chapter 17: Whispers in the Dark

**_Song of the Chapter: With or Without You ~ U2_**

* * *

_"Love me when I least deserve it because that is when I really need it."_

_ -Swedish Proverb_

* * *

Loki didn't look up when Freyja called him, he couldn't find the strength to do so. He had wanted to speak to her, but had found her chambers empty. When he finally found her, he saw her dancing with the super-soldier. He had watched as she laughed with him, as her eyes lit up the way they did when she was amused. And despite having to walk away, he had followed them through the city.

He supposed he shouldn't feel envious, that Freyja would in no form betray him, but he couldn't help it. He wanted nothing more than to take her back to Asgard and make her eyes light up with happiness as it did when she was with the soldier. Then, he wondered if maybe he should encourage her to pursue the soldier. He was a monster, after all, and she deserved better. And yet the anger he felt towards the Midgardian did not allow him to linger over such thoughts.

It was only when the man had taken her by the arm, in the way Loki had once done, that his anger subsided to leave only sorrow. What if she truly did fancy the soldier? He couldn't bear the thought. His anguish and fury had triggered his Jotun form, only enforcing his previous thoughts.

"Loki," she called again, reaching for him.

He slid his chair further into the corner, deeper into the shadows, to avoid her touch, "Will you tell me the truth? Sparing my emotions?"

"What are you speaking of?"

"I saw you…and the soldier…and I want to know why," he said softly.

"Why what? There is nothing to explain."

"I know you saw me watching you. What were you doing in such a place?"

"Tony decided to throw me a going-away party as this is my last night on Midgard. He invited Bruce, Steve, Clint, Thor and Jane. We had a good time."

"I could tell," he answered bitterly.

"Loki, it was no different than when you, Thor, Sif, the Warriors Three and I went to the tavern on the outskirts of Asgard. It was nothing serious."

"The soldier seemed to think otherwise."

"_Steve_ was simply being a gentleman. Can I not enjoy the night with a friend?"

"You were dancing with him, Freyja, laughing with him."

She threw her hands in the air exasperatedly, "Are you aware of just how many times I have danced or laughed with someone other than you? Are you telling me that you are jealous of every person who gives me the slightest amount of happiness?"

He shook his head, "I am envious of the very sunlight that shines down on you. You truly have no idea what effect you have on me, let alone other men."

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

"You draw people in, bring out the most in them. People crave your very presence in the room. Are you aware of how much each one deserves you more than I do?"

"Loki, you deserve me so much more."

He chuckled darkly, "Yes, the sickly Prince of Jotunheim deserves the affection of the Vanaheim Princess. After all I have done, I have only proven I am a monster."

"You made mistakes. All of us do."

He looked up at her, red eyes full of sadness, "You deserve better than this. Do you truly want a broken outcast? A man who has betrayed the trust of his own home?"

She walked closer, kneeling down to meet his eyes, "Do you remember the night three days after I returned from Alfheim?"

"I will never forget…"

"I know what it feels like to be a broken outcast. I know the solitude you feel during such a time. And I will not abandon you now."

He looked away, a tear running down his cheek, "Why is it that despite your peoples' laws, despite your own father's words, you make it your point to be with me."

"I've said this once, I'll say it again: it doesn't matter to me that you're Jotun by blood. I have never felt so drawn to someone before you. You are everything I have ever needed, what about this fact displeases you?"

He stood up, still not looking her in the face.

"What must I do to prove that you are the only one I want?"

"What must I do to show you I am no good for you?" he replied.

She took his right hand gently, lifted it up to her face. He knew that the cold must burn her skin, but she didn't show it. She placed his palm flat against the side of her face, a gesture that was customary among the Vanir to express that they shared your grief or sorrow. He looked up to meet her enchanting blue eyes that he had marveled at. Blue eyes were common in Asgard, but never so bright a hue. It was said that her eyes were the exact shade of the Vanaheim skies, but no outsider had yet to confirm it.

He watched as her skin steadily turned dark. The energy she was using pulsed under her skin, silver tendrils of her aura flowing from the palms of her hands. Her features became sharper before his eyes, her form thinning. But she did not grow any taller, as he knew she would if she were fully returning to her true form. He had only seen her like this twice before, and he wasn't sure whether he was enraptured or uncomfortable at the sight.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, no matter what form she took. Even in such a surreal manifestation, her very appearance was captivating. With graceful angles playing across her face, iridescent pitch-black hair, slightly pointed ears, vivid blue eyes, and a willowy figure, her title suited her well. Mesmerizing and alarming at the same time, her beauty was enigmatic and deeper than her skin.

"Look at the two of us and tell me what defines us as different."

He could see her point. With both of them in their true forms, they were not very different. If Freyja had an ounce more elven blood in her, she would be the same shade as a Jotun. Almost as if she could hear his thoughts, she began tracing the lighter markings along his arm. As she followed the lines, her skin lightened slightly and marks of her own appeared.

She smiled, "And now we are practically the same."

"But this," he said, running his hand down the side of her face to tilt her face up to his, "is no more than an illusion. You are still Princess Freyja of Vanaheim, not Jotunheim."

"And you are still Prince Loki of Asgard. Your blood and birthplace changes nothing. We are no more than what we are under our skin. There is nothing in the worlds that could change how I feel about you."

She stood up slightly taller to close the space between their lips, fingers tangling themselves in his hair. He cupped the back of her neck with one hand, the other wrapping around her waist to pull her closer to him. He could feel the muscles in her back tense at his freezing touch but she didn't protest. Her lips parted for him as she sighed in happiness.

He couldn't tell who made the first step to the bed but within seconds, he was leaning over her as he tried to keep contact. She grinned, pulling herself up closer by his shirt. As he trailed his lips over her cheek to her neck, she gave a small laugh.

"Do you still believe I prefer Steve over you?"

"What do you suppose?" he growled, nipping her earlobe lightly.

She slid her hands under the fabric of his shirt, fingers exploring the wiry muscles of his torso. He couldn't count the number of times he had woken up to find her tracing the pathways they formed, intrigued that she found interest in such strange things. She would lose herself in the simplest things, becoming so spellbound that reality could not touch her.

"You must return to Asgard, at least for a day or so," he said softly. "I cannot bear this, being mentally close but not being able to physically feel you. It is sweet torture."

"Perhaps I will. Torture, you say?" he could hear the playful tone in her voice.

Suddenly he was on his back with Freyja leaning over him, practically straddling his hips. He fought the urge to bring her closer, eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"And now?" she asked seductively.

"You are going to be the death of me if you tease me in such a cruel manner," he laughed.

"You know what my people believe about death," she whispered against his lips before closing the distance once again.

A muffled groan was his only reply. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, asking silently for permission. She obliged, a soft moan leaving her lips. He could taste something sweet, a flavor he couldn't name, and then the faint trace of liquor. Eyes snapping open in surprise, he pulled back.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her breathing shallow.

"You've been drinking," he said hesitantly. "I will not go any further when you've indulged in liquor."

"It was just a few light drinks. I believe Tony called it a 'Pina Colada'…"

She looked over him once and, upon realizing he had returned to his usual Asgardian form, allowed her façade to slip away. He couldn't help but chuckle at her expression. Her emotions, which were a mixture of exasperation and longing, were plain on her face. Sometimes, he forgot she was also the goddess of sensuality. She was in such meticulous control of herself, could rein in herself at any moment, that he forgot that aspect of her.

"You and I both know that a few drinks for you is the equivalent of ten steins for Thor. You may not be drunk, but you are not sober, either. And I refuse to take advantage of such an occasion."

She sighed, edging off him slightly to lie down beside him, "I am not intoxicated to any degree."

He laughed at the pout in her voice, "I have missed you, love. The children missed you, as well."

"That reminds me, how are they?"

"Jormungand hasn't changed much, I'm surprised you did not see him when you arrived here. Fenris is married to an elven woman, happily living in Alfheim. Hel, where to begin…"

"Not still having trouble, is she?"

"Not as much. She still gets an occasional problem, but that is my fault. The people are not exactly forgiving towards me. She searched for your soul for centuries before finally giving up. She was most affected by your disappearance, as you were the closest thing she had to a mother."

"Poor Hel, I wish I could have returned…"

"I understand why you couldn't, I'm sure she will understand, as well."

She propped her head on her elbow, turning to face him, "Not to change the subject, but I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Go on."

He could feel her hesitation, but her voice barely stumbled over the words, "Has your punishment been decided yet?"

He was caught off guard by the question, not quite wanting to speak the answer. For a second, his mind was whisked away to the six months before he was locked in the cell built into the Vault. He remembered the cold bite of the manacles, the agonizing burn of the venom, and Hel's frightened green eyes over him.

"Loki? Loki, are you alright?" Freyja asked him, body tensing as she looked at him worriedly.

"Yes, I'm fine. I was – never mind. And no, Odin has yet to issue any more penances."

"More? Don't lie to me, Loki. You were lost to me for a second."

He sighed, avoiding her eyes, "I don't wish to talk about it. It would only worry you needlessly."

"I am not a stranger to castigation," she retorted stubbornly.

"Love, I know you have never committed a crime in your life. Therefore, you have never…" he trailed off as he saw her look away quickly. "Unless you simply never told me…"

"Do you recall when my father took me back to Vanaheim for three days, right after you survived the Awakening?"

"Yes, you refused to tell me what happened."

When she returned his gaze, he saw something dark flicker across her eyes, "I know exactly what it is like. And believe you me, there is no reprimand the Asgardians can conjure that surpasses the severity of those the Vanir have."

He was silent for a second, wondering if he should ask her about it. He finally decided she would find out about his initial punishment sooner or later. Besides, she wasn't going to meet the news with excess grace, no matter when she received it.

"I have already endured a fraction of my trials. I was sentenced to two seasons chained to an alter while the _Ovaett_ sat poised above me, dripping it's venom down upon me."

"Two seasons?" she hissed. "How could Thor allow such?"

"Thor had no choice in the matter, the Council vote was unanimous. Besides, I did not suffer too much. Hel would sneak in when the guards were away and hold a basin over me to keep the venom from burning my skin."

"You have scars, I presume?"

His projection flickered as he willed it the green silk shirt and leather jerkin to disappear. As a mental projection was nothing more than an illusion of his mind, he could wear whatever pleased him. But the sudden change to it caused his concentration to waver.

She leaned forward, ignoring the temporary loss of visual, and inspected the discolored spots across his torso. A dismayed frown had crept across her tired face and he knew she would have continued if he had not willed his shirt to return.

"I have told you my story, now you tell me yours," he said.

She shook her head, "I am not worrying you with a happening what occurred more than a millennium ago."

"It's only fair," he pointed out.

"Nothing is fair," she returned, "Besides, it would be too difficult to explain the sensation."

"Then explain the circumstances and show me the rest."

She sighed, "There was a room deep under the royal palace, a room that was very rarely used. It is an empty room covered in mirrors, but the adjoining room contains the control panel which moderates what the prisoner sees. It brings one's greatest fears to life using the aura of what your people call the 'Lurking Unknown'. The length one stays in said room depends on the severity of the crimes."

"What does nearly killing the Asgardian Prince warrant?" he asked, not quite wanting to know the answer.

She placed her hand lightly on his, and he was no longer on Midgard.

The first thing he came to terms with was the impenetrable darkness that shrouded what he could only guess as the mirror room. He could just barely make out ten-year-old Freyja's wide blue eyes as she stared out into the darkness. For five whole minutes, there was nothing but blackness and Freyja's steady breaths.

And then there was a single flame, a light as small as a candle. Both he and the younger Freyja turned their heads to face the light. It was a small cot, on which a younger version of himself lay dead, surrounded by a mourning Frigga, Thor, and Odin. Odin slowly turned to face her, gray eye burning with anger.

"What did you do?" he demanded.

"I..."

"How could you agree to do this?"

"I didn't murder him, the incantation was too much," she said softly. "Besides, he is alive."

"He is dead! You killed him! How could you agree to attempt the Awakening when you knew there was a large risk of his death?"

"He knew! I-"

"That does not justify your actions!"

"No, this is not real. You're not real. Loki is alive. You are-"

"Freyja!"

Both she and Loki spun to see Algrim walking briskly towards them. He took Freyja by the shoulders, leaning down to look in her eyes.

"I came as soon as I heard you were here. What wrong did you commit to be brought here?"

She shook her head exasperatedly, "How did they let you in? Outsiders are forbidden from setting foot in Vanaheim."

"They made an exception. Tell me what happened in Asgard. Why does no one tell me what has occurred?"

"I attempted the Awakening on Loki, and he nearly died. He knew the possibilities, but he refused to let it go. I never meant for it to go wrong, I had tampered with the incantation to specifically allow him to live."

Algrim's black eyes widened, "Freyja, how could you be so irresponsible?"

"Algrim, I-"

"You knew better than to attempt something so dangerous! What would you have done if you had killed him?"

"I don't know! I just-"

"Just what, Freyja? His blood would have been on your hands! Your own friend's death at your actions!"

She pulled out of his grasp, eyes glassy with tears, "Why are you being so cruel to me? I thought you said you would never hurt me!"

"Because you have crossed the line! What words have I spoken that are not well deserved?"

"All of them! I'm sorry for my actions, but I would not take them back! Loki will be happy with the gift I have given him!"

"Do not take pride in such an occurrence! Your vanity has blinded you and because of it, you nearly killed the one friend you have!"

"Loki is not my only friend!"

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed. "No other Asgardian will befriend you, they fear you for what you are."

"That's not true!"

"I will no longer sugar-coat the truth. You and your people are deadly and different. And the choice you made today proves your own monstrosity."

He turned abruptly and walked towards what Loki guessed was a door covered by a mirror.

"Where are you going?" she called out desperately.

"To the people who deserve my love," he replied, opening the door.

"Algrim, wait!" she cried as she ran towards the door. "Please!"

The door slammed just before she made it, leaving her to lean against it.

"Freyja," Loki heard the voice of his younger self say.

She turned to face a roughly twelve-year-old Loki, tears streaming down her eyes.

"Algrim is right."

"What?" she whispered.

"I know I wanted this, but how could you risk my life on a whim?"

"Loki…"

"No. I don't want to hear it."

"You said, just last night, that you forgave me."

"How can I forgive you when you nearly took my life?" he demanded. "If I ran you through with a sword, would you forgive me?"

"That is different!"

"How?"

"You agreed to the risk. There was a chance that you would live, and you did. Aren't you happy? Isn't this what you wanted?"

"No! I don't want what you did to keep me alive! Why did you forge a connection? Do you think I honestly want you in my head? Why would I want any attachment to a freak like you?"

She slid down to the floor, palms covering her ears as she shook her head desperately.

"Stop it!"

"Why should I? Why should I not tell you everything?"

"This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real," she chanted as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Suddenly it was not just a younger version of himself that Loki saw in the room. Several different Vanir and Asgardian children appeared each one whispering names and taunts. Freyja continued to cover her ears and close her eyes, but he knew she could still hear them.

"Stop it! Please!" she yelled at no one in particular. "I know I've done wrong! Just stop this madness! I beg of you!"

"No one's going to stop it, you brought this on yourself," the younger Loki said.

"No!" she screamed, pushing past them all until she ran into a newly formed Odin.

"Freyja Njorddottir," he said as he took her by the wrists. "For your crimes against the royal family of Asgard, by the laws set at the beginning of time, you shall be sentenced to death at dawn."

"No! You're not real! None of this is real! Let go of me!" tears ran down her face as she cried out frantically.

She jerked her arms out of the false-Odin's grasp and ran to the corner where she continued to scream out at the figures that nothing was real. She curled in on herself, sinking into fetal position.

"I don't believe you!" she called out defiantly.

The mirrored door burst open, a tall Vanir walking hurriedly through the crowd of illusions towards her. A worried expression was on his face as he kneeled down. She screamed, eyes shut, as he took her face in his hands.

"Princess! Princess, please. Are you alright?"

She tried to force herself deeper into the corner, still not opening her eyes.

"Sweet princess, hear me out. Everything is okay, you're fine. I need you to look at me."

She shook her head, biting her lip.

"Please. I just want to make sure you're fine. Just-"

He stopped as another Vanir walked through the door, and Loki recognized him immediately. King Njord looked down at the kneeling Vanir, eyes cold.

"Hakon, why are you with the Princess?"

"Your Majesty," the Vanir, Hakon, began, "I was checking on her. She was on the verge of a nervous collapse."

"What were the orders I gave you?" he asked, looking Freyja who had opened her eyes once more.

"You said to fabricate illusions specifically designed for her and not to enter under any circumstance other than meals. But, sire, she was-"

"And were you to go against my word and enter to comfort her?"

"No, sire. However, circumstance warranted-"

"My daughter has performed a serious offense and must be punished for such. If you value your occupation, you will leave and not enter this room again. Is that clear, Hakon?"

The man hung his head, standing up, "Yes, your majesty."

"Then where should you be as of this moment?"

"Outside, your majesty."

"See that you do not cross me again."

Hakon bowed his head and left. Freyja stared up at her father with pleading eyes.

"Please do not reprimand him," she begged in a whisper. "He was simply looking out for my well-being."

"He deliberately disobeyed me, just as you have," he answered coldly. "Are aware of what would have stemmed from Prince Loki's death?"

"Yes, I-"

"You would have caused a war between our kingdom and the Asgardians! Your mistake would have been paid in your blood as well as that of others!"

"I understand that now, and I am sorry. I know what I have done wrong."

"Good," he said sharply as he turned and began to walk away.

"Father?" she asked shakily. "Where are you going?"

"To deal with more important matters that demand my attention."

She stood up and walked after him.

"You, however, are staying here."

She stopped in shock, "What? But I understand the gravity of my actions. I-I know what I would have caused. I have asked for your forgiveness in my realization of the truth."

"Your crimes have called for three days to dwell over your insubordination. And so you shall see this through to the end. I cannot have you doing such again."

"But I have seen what you intend me to! I understand the lesson I must learn! Father!"

She began to run towards the door once more as he walked through it.

"Father, please! I understand! Don't leave me here! Father!" she screamed, beating against the door that had locked behind him.

"Don't leave me in here!" she cried out one last time as the illusions returned.

Words echoed through the room, each one like a barbed knife. Freyja let herself fall to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself as she lay on her side. Tears continued to run down her cheeks as she focused on something that was not in the room and whispered that none of it was real.

The scene faded and Loki blinked as his eyes adjusted to the lighting of the room he was presently in. He looked over at Freyja, the true Freyja, in shock and anguish.

"Why did you never tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you. Besides, it was a well-deserved punishment."

"All those nights after, when you woke the entire palace with your screams," he muttered, remembering. "All those hours Algrim and I spent trying to help you after such episodes, and you neglected to tell us this was what you were suffering through?"

"It was recompense for what I had done."

"Love, you were ten years old!" he protested. "Are you aware of how much psychological trauma that could have caused?"

"It was just three days," she said half-heartedly.

"That is no excuse! How could your father leave you there?"

"Loki, we're talking about my father, a man who makes Odin look like the best father in the history of the Nine Realms."

He sighed, "What else have you not told me?"

"I haven't told you how much I want you to stay here with me," she whispered to distract him.

A smirk crept across his face, despite his mood, "Really?"

"Will you?" she asked, blue eyes searching his imploringly.

He wrapped his arms around her to pull her close, his chin resting on top of her head, "Of course."

She allowed herself to fall into his embrace, back to his chest. Sighing contentedly, she closed her eyes. He allowed his eyes to drift closed, memorizing everything he could; the feel of her silky curls, the heat of her body against his skin, the scent of wildflowers that lingered on her no matter what she wore or where she was, and the calm pattern of her breathing.

"Loki?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"I love you. No matter what happens in the future, know that I am eternally yours," she breathed in her own language. "Whether the threads of time rend apart or the Nine Realms collapse, never forget that you will always have me."

"I won't," he said back, also in her language, "And know that I love you just as equally, if not more."

"I doubt it," she laughed.

He chuckled, but said no more, allowing her to drift into sleep. Occasionally, he would shift her memories so that she would sleep peacefully for the night. He wondered idly if there was an incantation that could stop time. Although he knew there was none, he wanted nothing more than to freeze the moment and spend eternity with the woman he loved in his arms. But he knew that was impossible. He would simply have to hope for the best.


	19. Chapter 18: Old Friends

_**Song of the Chapter: ****Sinéad ~ Within Temptation**_

* * *

_"It is difficult, when faced with a situation you cannot control, to admit you can do nothing."_

_ –Lemony Snicket_

* * *

Sunlight streamed into the room from the window, causing Freyja to wake up. She looked around for Loki, but realized he would have left sometime in the night. Saddened by this, she forced herself to find happiness in the idea that he had visited her and she might see him briefly in the future.

She walked over to the closet and pulled out the green tunic and leather trousers she had recently repaired, knowing she'd attract much less attention in such attire on any of the other Nine Realms. Once finished dressing, she moved to the bedside table where she kept all of her jewelry besides the ring Loki gave her, which she still refused to remove.

She looked at herself in the full length mirror next to the closet, assessing the differences since she had last looked in a mirror. Usually, she avoided them at all costs, not wanting to see the face she saw. Apparently, she took her true mother's appearance when in Asgardian form, though she didn't know why. She had seen her mother only once, and she couldn't even remember it.

The woman in the mirror was tall and proud in appearance. She seemed so calm and collected, the exact opposite of what Freyja truly felt. What she loathed about mirrors was the fact that they showed her something false. She was not Asgardian but even if she changed her form back to her true appearance, she would still not look as she truly was. Her eyes were not naturally blue, her hair originally been silver, and she was not as tall as the rest of her people. But her father had created some form of permanent spell that hid the three aspects that marked her for what she truly was.

With a shake of her head to dispel such thoughts, she turned away and pulled her briefcase out from under her bed. The strong pull of the Tesseract could be felt through the metal, calling out to her as it only did to those who carried its powers through their blood. She ran her hand over its surface and it shrunk to the size of a credit card. Checking around the room one last time as she slipped it into her pocket, she walked out the door and into the main room of the penthouse.

She stopped in surprise when she saw Bruce asleep on the couch and Tony standing still, staring at his Iron Man suit as if it wasn't there. Before she allowed herself to fully comprehend what she was seeing, she used her magic to change her leather to jeans and a gray tee. She allowed a small smile to cross her face after, as she looked at her handiwork on the suit. She was amazed at what a box full of rhinestones, a permanent sticking charm and quite a bit of time on her hands had produced: her revenge on Tony for everything he had ever said and done.

Walking up to him slowly, she erased her smile and began her act, "Are you alright, Tony?"

"I need to ask you a question," he said slowly. "I'm pretty hung over and I'm not sure if what I'm seeing is real…"

She looked at the now bedazzled, as the humans had called it, Iron Man suit and back at Tony, "If what you see is a rather sparkly suit, then yes, it seems to be very real."

"Did you see anything strange last night when you came in?"

She shook her head, "Nothing out of the ordinary."

It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the full truth. She wasn't going to tell him she was the one who had turned his suit into a very large disco ball. The look of surprise, outrage, and confusion on Tony's face was well worth it.

"Then who the hell bedazzled my suit?"

"Have you asked Bruce if he had seen anything?" she asked, gesturing towards the couch.

Tony walked over to the couch and shook Bruce awake. Freyja smiled inwardly, keeping her face in an emotionless mask to keep from giving anything away. She was quite amused at just how irate Tony was becoming over his suit. His reaction was definitely worth it, but she couldn't wait until he attempted to pry them off.

"What is it, Tony?" Bruce mumbled, not opening his eyes.

"Did you see anything strange when you dragged me back here last night?"

"Strange as in…?"

Tony tossed him his glasses and pointed towards his beloved Iron Man suit, "That!"

Bruce squinted at it before putting his glasses on and staring in shock, "What happened?"

"I was hoping you'd have that answer."

He shrugged, "I didn't-"

The elevator doors slid open at that moment, revealing a very upbeat Steve. He walked out and opened his mouth to say something, completely oblivious to what was going on, but stopped when he saw all three and the suit. He smiled, not willing to pass up on this opportunity.

"Remember when I said that it was your suit and you could add whatever you wanted to it for more recognition? This wouldn't have been my first choice, but it will attract a lot of attention."

Freyja gave him an amused smile while Tony looked outraged.

"This was you, wasn't it?"

"Steve did not even enter the tower last night," she said. "I would know, he walked me here.

"Then who came in here without alerting anyone and…" he trailed off. "Natasha."

Steve looked at him in concern, "I think you still may be a little drunk, Stark."

"What are you even doing here?"

"Freyja, Bruce and I are going to S.H.I.E.L.D. for a presentation."

"We are?" Bruce asked.

Steve and Freyja exchanged glances, both unsure what to say.

"You did not know? I thought Steve would have told you," Freyja asked, remembering the techniques she and Loki had developed to get away with her inability to speak lies. "I wish to offer an advancement my people had no use for, but may impact your people greatly."

Now everyone was staring at her in surprise. She sighed inwardly, knowing they would never fool anyone if Steve didn't start putting a little effort into his act. _Don't be surprised, I believe I told you I could enter the minds of others_, she said in his head._ You need to improvise a little, or no one will believe us._

Steve opened and closed his mouth before he could manage to pull himself together enough to speak, "Yeah, Freyja told me last night about it. But she refused to tell me what it was, said it was a surprise. I'm guessing it's in your room?"

_Tread carefully_, she thought desperately to him_, you will have to do most of the talking as I can only bend the truth so much…_

"I'll go and get it, shall I?" she said aloud, walking briskly towards her room.

She paced around her room, thinking desperately of what she could possibly summon up to use, as she had nothing present that would be of any use to S.H.I.E.L.D. What had Steve been thinking, she wondered, when he decided a presentation would be the best way to go? She paced back and forth as she tried to think of what was in her room in Asgard that would work.

An idea popped into her head and she quickly said the necessary incantation to bring it to Earth. When she finished, she could feel the fluid-like material of the fabric in her hands. It was a bodysuit, similar to the suits she had seen the agents wear, but this one was different as it was made to cover every inch of the wearer. It was made of the same stretchy material as the chain she kept in her briefcase. Satisfied that this would work perfectly, she walked back out to join the rest.

"Here we are," she said, holding it up.

"It's a cat suit," Tony said skeptically.

She looked at him, but decided she'd rather not know what he was talking about, "Actually, it would be called 'Shadow Suit' in your language."

"What does it do?" Bruce asked.

She ran her fingers over it until she found the seam, slipping her arm into the suit up to her elbow. Instantly, as she knew exactly what she was doing, it shimmered until all of it disappeared except for what was hanging on her arm. The fabric that lay draped over her forearm had altered itself to look like iridescent black scales, giving the illusion that she was partially reptilian. It reverted to its original state as she pulled it off.

"It allows the wearer to transform into whatever, or whoever, they please simply by thinking of it. It alters the way the light reflects off the skin so that the figure, color, and details can be altered to create the illusion of being another person. Seeing as my people can already change our shape, it's rather redundant."

"We should probably get going," Steve said. "They're expecting us in about twenty minutes."

Freyja nodded, "We can't keep them waiting. We had better hurry, lest they decide otherwise."

* * *

Steve and Freyja made their way quickly through the S.H.I.E.L.D. base with the help of a disappearance spell on Freyja's part. Bruce had stayed with the board of agents to present the shadow suit. He hadn't originally agreed to what they were doing but had grudgingly agreed it was better than dragging a blood-thirsty murderer down to Earth. And so it took no more than ten minutes to make it to her ship, which had been repaired by the engineers of S.H.I.E.L.D.

She pulled the miniature briefcase out of her pocket, restoring it to its normal size. As she placed her hand against a raised square directly under the windshield on the right side of the jet, the whole thing lit up and the engine purred softly to life. The crystal windshield swung open and she tossed the briefcase inside, turning to Steve at the last moment.

"Thank you for everything, Steve," she said, enveloping him in a hug.

He turned red before he returned her embrace, "No problem. Be careful out there, alright?"

"Of course," she answered, leaping in one bound onto the wing of the plane.

"Hey, can I ask you one last question?"

"Sure," she twisted slightly so that she was kneeling precariously on the wing to face him.

"Before I went under the ice seventy years ago, there was a man who had found the Tesseract."

"Yes, Tony allowed me access to the S.H.I.E.L.D. files. A man known as Red Skull, the leader of HYDRA. What of him?"

"Right before I had to crash the plane, he was holding the Tesseract and he seemed to sort of disintegrate. I just want to know what happened."

Her eyes widened slightly, "Describe exactly what happened."

"He grabbed the Tesseract with his bare hands and suddenly the whole atmosphere around us changed. We could see the stars, like it was showing us another universe. Then it began to eat away his skin until he turned to dust."

"I should have left before," she whispered, a look of horror frozen on his face.

"Wait," he said, grabbing her wrist. "What's wrong?"

"The Tesseract works as a siphon, engulfing the energy of anything that comes in full contact with it. It weakens the Æsir and Vanir on contact, but will consume any other beings who touch it. When it does this, it sends of a shockwave of power to the outlying worlds."

"What does that have to do with you leaving?"

"This is the one world Thanos does not follow me to because he believes I would never endanger the lives of a species so weak. It-"

The doors burst open, making both turn to look at a very flustered Bruce.

"I've got good news and news that I'm not sure how to categorize. The good news is that they're thrilled with the suit, the other news is that we're getting large readings of foreign energy within a mile radius of here."

"No. No, no, no, no, NO!" she whispered under her breath. "He can't be – I have to leave."

She stood up to climb into the jet, but was thrown off the wing as the whole base shook with the force of a large earthquake. All three crashed to the floor as bits of the ceiling fell and the floors shook. Freyja pushed herself onto her hands and knees when it stopped.

"Bruce!" Steve yelled, scrambling away from the two as Bruce seemed to shudder next to her.

His skin rippled, his growing form ripping through his clothes. She quickly placed her palm of her hand on his shoulder, willing his mind to be calm.

"Bruce, I need you as yourself now. I know you can hear me. This is not you. We need you."

He began to shrink, the green tint fading from his skin. He looked up at her with surprised brown eyes.

She stood, willing the briefcase to her grasp. She quickly thrust the case into Bruce's hands.

"I need you to take this to Stark Tower and lock it away. Do not open it and, whatever you do, do not touch it. Go, now."

He nodded, running out the doors he came in through. She turned to Steve, who had stood back up.

"As for you, I need you to evacuate everyone from here while I distract Thanos."

She turned to run, but he grabbed her upper arm.

"Then what?"

"Meet the rest of the Avengers in Stark Tower. If I'm not there in thirty minutes, don't come back for me."

"But-"

She looked him straight in the eyes, a steely glint in the bright blue, "Don't come back. I'm asking you as a soldier."

He opened his mouth to reply, but decided against it and nodded.

She ran out the door, not waiting for his answer, and allowed her armor to form around her. The armor had never been used, but she knew it was adequate for what she was about to do. She extended her mind to her surroundings in search of the cold presence of Thanos. As she pinpointed his whereabouts, she laughed internally at how true Loki's words had been. She now had a new opportunity, and she was going to take it.

Her surroundings were a blur around her as she raced through the halls towards the large room of computers she guessed to be a control center. As she burst through the door, she stopped in shock.

The room was in chaos, with the wreckage of tables, electronics, chairs, and a few bodies strewn across the place. The tall, stocky figure of Thanos was in the center of the room, facing away from her. He held a woman by the neck in front of him and as he growled demands at her, Freyja realized the woman was a bloodied Natasha.

She formed a small blade of pure energy in her hand and launched it at the purple beast, "Thanos!"

He dropped Natasha as the blade cut through his flesh, growling in pain. The giant spun with surreal grace that did not match his stature as he turned to face her. A strange grin crossed his face as he ran his Tesseract blue eyes, the same shade as hers, up and down her figure.

"Princess Freyja," he said as he mock bowed. "It has been too long. You look well."

"I'm in no mood for games. Your quarrel is with me, leave the humans out of it."

"Your protection of the weaker species continues to astound me."

"And your need for death concerns me. Perhaps you should allow me to look your mind over for your well-being."

A muscle at the corner of his lips twitched, and she knew she struck a nerve.

"Where is the Tesseract, Princess?"

She shrugged, "I sent it away. You'll be lucky if you so much as sense it, now."

And he was upon her, his fingers closing around her throat as he pushed her against the wall.

"You seem to find all this amusing. Perhaps I should share my own amusements with you."

Her lips curled into a sneer as she fought back the all-consuming fear that tainted his aura, "Only in Hel, Thanos."

And she drove another blade of energy into his torso, just above his waist from the side. His grip loosened and she pulled away. Once four feet away from him, she created a spear out of her energy and lunged towards him. She may have never truly fought on the offensive, but she knew every Asgardian battle technique that could be taught.

He unsheathed the large sword at his side, his black aura flaring around him. She knew he could wield magic, but she also knew he would only use it as a fallback. The world seemed to fade away around them until there was nothing but herself, Thanos, and the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

She concentrated on her attacks and defenses, but also allowed herself to assess the situation. He had superior physical strength and was proficient in magic, but lacked the necessary creativity and flexibility of the mind. She was quicker, more limber, stronger in magic, and much more adaptable. She had no idea where Natasha had gone to, but she doubted the spy would be of any help anyway.

And it was then that she made her mistake. In her momentary lapse of concentration, Thanos kicked her hard in the chest. The impact of the blow sent her crashing through two sets of walls before stopping to find herself breathless and slightly dazed.

He picked his way through the rubble as he made his way towards her, sword poised to strike in his hands. He stopped as he reached her, smiling at her hesitation.

"If only I could kill you here," he sighed. "Alas, I would only lose all of the information I require. But a maimed princess is still a live one."

She tensed, awaiting the blow as he raised his sword. A loud thud broke through the silence as something round connected with the back of the warlord's head. Freyja rolled out of the way as he tumbled to the ground. She jumped to her feet, grabbing the shield responsible and running towards the man who had thrown it.

"What did I tell you?" she yelled, dragging the blonde soldier out of the room and down a hall.

"Everyone's out and I knew you needed help."

"Are you suicidal? Or do you simply not care?" she demanded. "Thanos needs me alive, but he won't hesitate to kill you."

"I wasn't going to leave you to fend for yourself."

"I don't need rescuing," she hissed, looking back in the direction of frustrated yells.

"Good thing I'm only helping you, then."

"Then make yourself useful and – GET DOWN!" she shoved him away as she caught sight of a black streak out of the corner of her eye.

The energy collided with her, sending her further down the hall. Waves of pain wracked through her body as she convulsed on the floor. It took all of her concentration not to cry out. She could just make out Thanos's figure through her tears. He yanked her up by her arm, causing her to yelp as he twisted it the wrong way.

"How strange that you are so fiery when your people were the very epitome of docile. It would have been much more entertaining if they had been this lively. Killing them had been all too easy."

Snarling with anger, she allowed her energy to send a bolt of pain lancing up his arm where he held her. He howled in pain it raced through his body, letting her go. She twirled around him, giving him a swift kick in the back that brought him to his knees. With a short incantation, chains of her silver aura locked his hands and ankles to the floor.

He struggled against the restraints, yelling out in anger. She barely spared Steve a glance, who she had accidentally thrown through a wall of glass in her haste, as she bound the chains into the concrete. Pulling a talisman out of her pocket, she allowed her aura to pool into the jade pendant in an unstable form. She then placed a temporary containment spell on it and tossed it into the rubble.

"There is one mistake you made that I feel you should be aware of," she said in her own language as she walked out, glancing back at him one last time. "You may wound me, threaten me, break me in any physical or psychological way. My life means little to me, but you brought my family, even those who have no blood-relation to me, into this. When this is over, I kill you with everything you have used to hurt me and leave you at the roots of the Yggdrasil so the Nidhogg may feast upon your flesh.

"You think my people were weak, but you forget I am not them. Do not make the same mistake again."

She felt the power of the words, the oath which lay in them, crackle through the air like electricity. Steve, who must have gotten up while she was speaking, glanced inside the room as she walked out.

"We're going to want to be at least a mile from this base in exactly two minutes and thirty-eight seconds," she said as she dragged him quickly away.

"You set a time bomb?" he asked skeptically.

She laughed, "Worse. I 'set' a form of pyrotechnics consisting of pure auric energy. Imagine your atomic bomb, simply twenty-three percent stronger and more destructive."

"Jesus."

"What's the quickest way out of here?"

"The staircase down that hall, to the right."

"Not fast enough," she threw a ball of energy at the ceiling, causing a large hole to open up to the sky. "You have no qualms with flight, do you?"

He shook his head before watching as white wings unfolded from her back. She took hold of him, bringing him closer, and leapt into the air. He didn't have time to wonder about anything strange that had recently occurred as he was too in shock at the fact he was flying through levels of an underground base to the sky with a winged goddess. And the fact that this idea was in its most literal form was baffling.

When they reached roughly forty feet off the ground, the base exploded. Freyja cried out in surprise as she twirled to escape the flames and tendrils of pure energy. She knew very well that there was no more painful a death than by pure energy, as it would rend the body and soul apart. And while she might be able to heal a few burns, Steve could die of energy poisoning if she did not keep him unscathed.

She bit her lip as one of the flames hit her right calf. Another hit her left wing, causing the feathers to burn. Unable to control her flight pattern, she careened to an empty field to the east. She let go of Steve right before she crashed into the hard ground, tumbling slightly.

She rolled onto her back, spreading her wings flat against the grass, as she tried to collect her thoughts and catch her breath.

"I didn't know you could fly," Steve said between coughs.

"It's the same principle as shape-shifting," she gasped. "I should think you would have expected it."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but we can't just sprout wings whenever we want. Nothing you do is expected," he offered his hand.

She took it and he helped her up. They turned their heads towards the base, watching the fires still blazing higher than normal flames would.

"How did your people die if they could do that?"

"I'm not aware of the details."

"Do you think he's dead?"

She gave him a skeptical look, "If only the fates were that kind. He may not be dead, but he is detained for the moment."

"How long will that hold him?"

She shrugged, "Two to three hours."

"At least?"

"At most," she looked towards the sky and back at Steve. "We need to get to Stark Tower and assemble whoever you have to fight. Thanos did not come here alone. He has an army of his own, it simply has not arrived yet."

"More Chitauri?"

"Not likely. Thanos does not do the same things twice. If I had to guess, he'll have dragged some poor souls from the darkest corners of the universes."

"So how are we getting to Stark Tower?"

"Same way we escaped: flight."

* * *

Freyja propped her right leg on the couch to get a better angle. The skin was badly burned, but she ignored the pain and began to heal it as best she could while using as little energy as possible. She had the nagging suspicion that she was going to need to save her energy.

The Avengers and Nick Fury sat around Tony's living room, all looking at Freyja for answers.

"I suppose I owe you some information," she sighed, glancing at Fury.

"Really? We just had our front door broken down by a purple giant who made half of my best agents look like a bunch of overweight mall cops. I don't know what game you play, or what goes on in the rest of the Nine Realms but I am sick and tired of every alien in God's creation thinking they can just waltz onto Earth and take what they like.

"I want to know, and you had better come up with a damn good explanation, what the hell was that thing and what it wants."

"That was what has been hunting me down for two millennia now. Thanos, the warlord from a long-lost world known only as Titan Eternal, was our greatest mistake. We found him alone on a poor excuse of an asteroid and took him in out of pity. He was taught everything, even magic as his mind was already awakened for such. No one knew what happened to his planet or his people, as he was wary to relinquish any information.

"When we created the Tesseract, he became obsessed with its power and its uses. He began conducting experiments in secret, even going as far as killing several victims in attempt to harness the power. When he finally discovered the sole method to do such, injecting one's own body with its strength, he submitted immediately to its reign. It consumed every aspect of him, corrupting his entire being.

"We finally caught him, but he was lost to all. We exiled him to the most desolate universe for his crimes, locking every seam between the worlds so that he could not return. It took him long enough to find a path to return by, and he followed his plans to retake the Tesseract and bring about his revenge.

"When he discovered I was the guardian of the worlds' secrets, he abducted me in attempt to find the Tesseract. He had discovered, in his time in exile, that he still could not control the Tesseract and learned that I had the answers to that. I escaped and hid the Tesseract where he would least expect to find it, here. He then took his revenge on my people, obliterating my entire race. After I left Asgard, he confronted me and I barely escaped. I have been running since.

"Despite being occupied with hunting me, it seems he prefers to multitask as he enlisted Loki's aid just last year. It was a desperate attempt to gain both the Tesseract and leverage to gain my knowledge. However, you proved strong enough to hold your own and he was forced to retreat for the time being."

Everyone stared at her, each face plastered with a different emotion. She could practically hear the blood vessel in Fury's head burst, however. He looked as though he might strangle her.

"Why did you not tell us this before?" Thor asked.

"By the oath's I swore when I reached twelve years of age, I could not tell you unless it was absolutely necessary."

"What makes it any more necessary now than it was before?" Fury demanded.

"Thanos is going to attack with an army before the day is done. A clear understanding of our enemy gives us an edge. He never repeats himself, therefore making it perfectly clear what he will do now."

"How does that tell us what he's planning?" Clint asked, giving her a skeptical look.

It seemed everyone was looking at her like she had gone insane. Maybe she had, but at least she knew exactly what she was doing.

"I've studied Thanos's actions as much as he has mine. We are both strategists, although he prefers to see his plans firsthand, and therefore we tend to plan centuries ahead. As of this moment, the most likely attack is an army of easily manipulated beings to distract all of you, a hand-picked surprise for me, and an aspect of his army that he believes we don't know."

"Which is?"

"And here is where I can no longer help you. The future is unstable, always changing depending on how Thanos feels at the time. The possibilities range from soldiers that cannot die to creatures that can disintegrate you with a single touch. I'm still working on narrowing it down."

"When exactly is he attacking?"

"Either in forty-five minutes, which is highly unlikely, or in an hour and a half. Just enough time for a little surprise of my own, if you'll allow it."

Fury narrowed his eyes, "What 'surprise' are you thinking of."

"During my travels through the Nine Realms and the worlds beyond-"

"Worlds beyond? There are no worlds beyond the Nine Realms," Thor pointed out, sitting up straighter.

"Bruce, the Tesseract, please."

Bruce handed her the briefcase carefully and she gently placed it on the coffee table. After a minute of tossing her belongings out of the case, she pulled out the Tesseract. She grimaced as its power jolted through her, tendrils of its control trying to ensnare her own mind. She pushed them away, locking her mental barriers in place.

"_Reuelare mundi trans nostra. Ostende nobis quid fallit_," she murmured, invoking her connection to it.

There was a flash of light before the room disappeared. The Avengers, Fury and Freyja were now in what seemed to be a miniaturized digital model of a universe far different from their own. Two suns blazed into existence, creating the illusion of light. Everyone, except Freyja, looked around in shock at the strange planets.

"The universe is not an isolated system. I have dragged Thanos after me to worlds that hold monsters that would not appear in your darkest nightmares. In my travels, I have come across several species similar to the Æsir, many of which have also traveled to Earth and been worshipped as gods. I know many of them as friends, and quite a few would be willing to help us. All I need do is contact them. With the Tesseract here, we could easily have quite a few allies."

She waved her hand over the Tesseract and the projection disappeared.

"Wait. So what you're saying is that you're going to summon several of your god-like friends that we have no clue who they are and we're just supposed to trust them?" Clint asked.

Freyja allowed a smirk to play across her lips, "I can assure you that you are at least somewhat familiar with them. Your people have created myths about them for ages."

"And who do you expect to bring?" Fury's voice was tense.

She shrugged, "Ares, Artemis, Hades, Hephaestus, Hermes, Poseidon, Zeus, Airmid, Arawn, Arianrhod, Babd Catha, Bel, Camalus, Giobhn, Osiris, Bast, Anubis-"

"Alright! I think we've got the idea."

"Been around, Venus?" Tony laughed.

"I believe we've already established that, and please don't call me by that name. Venus, or Aphrodite as they are one and the same, is a vain, cruel woman who finds it amusing to enchant men into loving her. She and Sigyn are the few people I refuse to associate with."

"How are Venus and Aphrodite the same woman if one is Greek and one is Roman?" Natasha asked.

"They are neither Greek nor Roman as they are not from Earth. The Olympians came to Greece originally. When the Romans came around, the Greeks were becoming lax with their worship and the Olympians decided to play on both sides. It was a test to see if the Greeks could redeem themselves. Rome won the Olympians' favor and Greece fell. I left not long after."

"Can your 'friends' be trusted?" Fury asked.

"Of course. Although some, such as Ares, will get a bit overzealous during battle as Thor once did. None of them would hurt a mortal."

"How will they arrive?" Thor asked.

"I'll use mental projection to contact Hermes. He'll have Iris send the word while I set up a portal using the Tesseract."

She turned to face Fury, "I will not do this without your consent. This is your planet, after all."

"We can use any help offered. But I'm not putting up with any wise-ass gods. If any of them pull something I don't like, you're sending them straight back."

"Agreed," she nodded and walked out to the overhang with the Tesseract in her hands.

Tony turned to Thor who looked anxious at the conversation, "I'm guessing you had no clue she knew other gods."

"I was not aware of the existence of others like us. It seems the Vanir have known such since the beginning of time."

"Wasn't there a blood feud between Hades, Zeus and Poseidon?" Steve asked quietly.

"Who knows," Clint mumbled.

"I'll leave this in your more than capable hands," Fury said as he got up.

"You're just going to leave us with over a dozen superhuman people who could act exactly like Loki?" Bruce exclaimed, looking shaken at the idea.

"I'm sure you all can handle a few more extraterrestrials," Fury answered, relishing their unhappiness at the idea. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a city to evacuate."

And with that, he walked into the elevator and closed the doors behind him.

"Any ideas what half of these gods are going to be like?" Clint asked Thor.

Thor shook his head, hand instinctively grasping the handle of Mjolnir. If these friends of Freyja's were anything like his own people, they would all be in deeper trouble than before.


	20. Chapter 19: Twists of Fate

**_Song of the Chapter: Whisper ~ Evanescence_**

* * *

_"Human reason needs only to will more strongly than fate, and she is fate."_

_ -Thomas Mann_

* * *

Freyja closed the portal she created as the final person walked out of the dimensional rift. Once she had spoken to all of the 'gods' she could, she had recruited the aid of exactly twenty-one immortals. All of them, with the exception of Hermes, had gone inside to introduce themselves to the Avengers and the other immortals they weren't familiar with. She just nobody killed anyone. So many combined egos under one roof was not a good mix.

Hermes, a tall, slight man who looked to be in his mid-twenties, had leaned against the glass wall while she finished. He looked exactly the same as when she had left: golden blonde curls, twinkling blue-gray eyes, and a crooked grin that made him look as if he was up to something. He reminded her of Loki, but he was not quite as troublesome.

"It's been a long time, Athena," he said, embracing her tightly in his long arms.

"Athena," she laughed. "It has been a _long _time since anyone has called me that."

He chuckled, "I suppose I will hear you called by many names today."

"You will," she replied as they walked inside.

Freyja took a minute to take in the entire scene before her. It was strange to see so many of her old friends together in one room. She was halfway surprised the building hadn't collapsed yet. Even Poseidon and Zeus, who were usually in foul moods around each other, were talking in a civilized manner.

Anubis still looked roughly eighteen in age with his short-cropped black hair, dark eyes, thick kohl, and sun-tanned copper skin. He smiled when he saw her, nodding slightly before returning to the conversation he was having with Hades.

Thor was talking animatedly with Ares, who was laughing so hard his helmet was slightly crooked. Tony was explaining something to Hephaestus, who looked fairly intrigued. She saw Bast grinning in an amused fashion, her cat fangs shining wickedly, at something she was saying to Natasha. Bruce was listening to Quetzalcoatl, and somehow managing not to stare at the immortal's feathered snake tail, as he spoke about something. Everyone was behaving well, much to Freyja's relief.

"Excuse me!" she called over the noise after casting the All-tongue spell. "I hate to interrupt, but we only have a limited amount of time to come up with a strategy against our enemy. If you would all gather around the table…"

Everyone found a spot to either sit or stand around the coffee table that Freyja was temporarily enlarging with magic. She then created a scale model of the city and little metal pieces to resemble each of them.

"Our main enemy is Thanos," she announced, conjuring a small metal bust of the Titan. "But he will bring an army, which will be your main concern. I will confront Thanos myself. A team of three, which we will decide later, shall stay here and guard the Tesseract. Artemis, Clint, Zeus, Thor, and Hermes will take the skies, monitoring anything that flies. Ares, how shall we place the groups?"

He grinned, immediately getting into his comfort zone as he barked out battle plans. She smiled as she watched everyone give input, adding to the strategies so that it was not based off of a single style. It was while she was watching them that a flash of movement outside caught her eye. She turned, eyes widening as she recognized the familiar figure.

Perched on the glass sides of the walkway, as if gravity didn't affect him and he couldn't actually fall, was a tall man of about forty with slate-colored skin. His long white hair hung past his shoulders, his pointed face twisted into a wistful smile, white-gray eyes shining in muted happiness. He wore a mix of gray leather and interlocking metal that vaguely resembled dragon scales. It was a face she would never forget, a face that she immediately registered as a very good friend.

She stood up and walked out to see him. He inclined his head respectively, and she followed the suit.

"Princess Freyja of the Vanir and Light Elves," he said softly in his strange accent. "It is good to see you again. You are looking well. Gotten a little older, haven't you?"

"Erland," she sighed, pulling him into a hug. "It is well and good to see you once more. But I must ask: why have you come here, old friend?"

"You know I would do anything to help you. I had the nagging suspicion that you needed my aid. I simply followed your energy trail to find you here. Don't tell me that thuggish brute has it out for you again."

"I'm afraid so."

He raised a thin eyebrow, "Why do I get the feeling you aren't going to run this time?"

"Because I'm not. I'm going to face Thanos and end this."

He leapt down from the rail, placing a hand on his sword, "Then I shall aid you."

"Erland, you owe me nothing. I am already in your debt," she protested.

"Freyja, today is the eclipse. The end and the beginning," his eyes began to shine brightly as he careened off the shore of sanity. "The seven demons shall be cleansed, the cursed bonds broken, and the phoenix shall rise to greet the dawn."

She rushed to him, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his chest, "Calm yourself! You are speaking in tongues."

He shook his head, "It is no riddle what I speak of! It has been foretold for millennia. The Norns, the Sirens, the Fates, all with the gift of prophecy have repeated the same tale. Your people knew it! You know what I speak of."

She froze, remembering exactly what he was referring to, "_Renascentia_? Now? Of all the days to speak of something of such proportions, you choose now?"

"I feel it in the air. The day has come."

She shivered, fear spiking through her bloodstream instead of the adrenaline she knew she would need. _Renascentia _had been foretold long before her birth, and had everything to do with her. She had pushed away the grim prediction and tried to think about it as little as possible. Balling her fists and closing her eyes in attempt to reign in her dread, she pushed out any flickers of the future that threatened to reveal themselves. She could _not_ afford to lose her nerve. The worlds were depending on her.

"Are you truly going to continue?" he asked in a concerned voice. "Can you march onward to your own death?"

She flinched as she said the words aloud, "Yes. I will not fight fate. If this is how I end Thanos, than this is the way I shall go. To Hel with death. I will not see Thanos destroy the worlds."

He grinned, "There's the Freyja I knew. For a second, I thought life had beaten the fire from you."

"Life has broken me, but I will not yield."

"Then I will fight by your side, 'til the seams of reality unfold at my feet."

She smiled at his confidence, "Then we had better go inside and help plan."

They both drew stares as they walked into the building. The immortals stiffened as they saw Erland, each recognizing the eerie ambiance his aura gave off. He simply radiated of something else, something beyond the boundaries of logic.

"Everyone," she said quickly, hoping to extinguish any doubt. "This is Erland, a very old friend and ally of mine. He is a fearsome warrior and excellent strategist. He is willing to join our ranks."

He walked closer to the coffee table with the city model, examining the pieces scattered across the streets, "Interesting game of chess you have here. But I have an easy play that ensures your success."

He picked up the piece that resembled Freyja and placed it in front of the Thanos piece, "Checkmate!"

She stifled a laugh as everyone gave him a funny look. The faces that met his actions were worth watching. Reactions to Erland were amusing in and of themselves. She created a piece to resemble him and placed it in his hand.

"I choose? Alright, I believe you have a chink in your armor. Here."

She nodded as he placed his piece in an otherwise deserted area, "You're right. Ares, I do believe you're losing your touch."

"I haven't been in a good war since Troy!" he exclaimed in his defense. "Occasional lapses in judgment are probable, Athena."

"Forgive me for my thoughtlessness. I did not think to consider this. Has everything been decided?"

Murmurs of consent echoed through the room.

"Good," she answered, allowing her armor to form around her. "We had better prepare. Pray all goes well today, for the alternative is the end."

As they scrambled around to get ready, she willed her magic to extend to Asgard to retrieve a weapon she had decided on. When she was through, the gilded spear Loki had used a year before lay in her hand. As she gripped it tighter, it elongated until it was slightly longer than she was tall.

"Loki's spear?" she heard Steve's voice from behind her.

"It is connected to the Tesseract, just as I am. The combination shall allow me to call on the energies to aid me."

"But won't it corrupt you?"

"My blood has a higher level of Tesseract energy than the jewel in this spear. I have so much because it is what keeps me alive. This little will do no more damage than I have already obtained."

He watched as she turned away to speak with a middle-aged man that he guessed to be Hades. She was worrying him, her behavior was a little off. That and her eyes were glowing. It was as if someone had lit flames behind her irises, the shade of blue so bright it seemed to shimmer. They were truly the color of the Tesseract itself, and that did not relieve any of his stress.

* * *

Freyja kneeled on a bird-shaped ledge on a tower she didn't know the name of. What had Tony called it? The Crystal Building? She couldn't remember, and she shouldn't even be worrying about such a trivial thing. Why was she worrying about such meaningless thoughts?

Her eyes narrowed as she came to her conclusion: something was wrong. It had been roughly twenty minutes, five minutes too long, since she had stood in the penthouse of Stark Tower. She pushed the button of the mic she had been given, along with everyone else, and suppressed a sigh.

"Clint, see anything?"

"Not from this angle," he replied.

"Zeus? Horus? Arawn? Hermes? Anything?"

"Nothing on this end," Horus grunted.

"Same here," Hermes muttered.

"Nay," Arawn sighed.

"Not so much as a shadow out of place," Zeus said last.

"I'm coming down. Something's not right."

With that, she stepped easily off the bird head and fell through the air to land agilely on the ground, the asphalt cracking under the impact. She looked around, searching for a sign of anything. It was beginning to feel more along the lines of a trap than an attack.

"Thor, Ares, any ideas on this one."

"Something is very wrong," Ares growled. "We're worse than sitting ducks here."

"Reminds me of when Loki would use his invisibility," Thor grumbled.

"Invisibility…" she echoed.

"Do you not remember?" Thor asked.

"Thor, I think you may be right," she said grimly.

She thrust the tip of the spear into the ground so it could stand on its own and placed her palms together in the initiation of a spell.

"What do you mean?" she heard Thor's voice through the mic.

"_Ignesco!_" she whispered, spreading her arms out wide.

Light waves poured from her palms, spreading out faster than a bolt of lightning. The waves rebounded off the buildings, revealing shimmering creatures crouched against the glass surfaces. She didn't have enough time to yell out a warning, let alone retake her weapon, before they were upon her.

She was engulfed in a tangle of claws, fangs, feathers, and scales. It was disorientating, to feel the creatures that attacked her and yet her vision passed right through them. She had faced these beasts only once before, but the impression they left had given her a name for them. Her mind stumbled for an answer to her predicament as the toxins in their skin began to take effect.

She screamed out an incantation, blowing the creatures back with a sphere of energy. Pulling the spear out of the ground, she swung the blade towards her nearest assailant.

"They're _Diaphana," _she hissed as she sliced through the air in hopes of hitting something.

Black powder spread out as she blew against her palm, covering the beasts in the iridescent ash. Thick black liquid poured out of the wounds she created as she twirled and spun in a complex dance of attack.

From the many voices she heard through the earpiece, it seemed the others had encountered them as well.

"Camalos?"

"I'm a bit tied up at the moment, Branwen," he replied in Gaelic.

"I need you to do something."

"As I said, I am otherwise occupied with these damned ghost-beasts."

"Do you still carry the grounds of your slain enemies' bones with you?"

"You carry remains of your enemies?" Tony interrupted. "That's just disgusting. And twisted."

"We aren't discussing the morality of his actions," she snapped irritably, decapitating on of the creatures that came too close. "Do you have them or not?"

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Isis, you continue to astound me," Horus chuckled. "Coating the beasts in powder…"

"Just like Giza," she replied.

"You must be joking," Anubis said as Freyja cut the last animal in half. "Where do you see the similarity between here and Giza?"

"A conversation for a better time," she said, levitating herself up above the buildings. "Thor, how are you holding up?"

He laughed in reply.

"Anyone's aid would be helpful," Andraste snarled.

"I'm on my way. Has anyone spotted Thanos yet?"

Everyone answered with the same reply, no one had seen the Titan yet. A flicker of worry went through her as she thought of the Tesseract.

"Vishnu, I trust the Tesseract is secure."

"Have a little faith, Maya," the blue-skinned god replied.

"How many aliases do you have?" Clint asked suddenly.

"A little over five hundred," she answered honestly, trying and failing to pin down the exact number.

"You're worse than Natasha."

"Is it my fault your people create a new name for me every time I visit?"

"Too much talk, people," Natasha said, cutting off several different conversations. "We need to keep these lines as free as possible."

As she sped through the air, using levitation as wings were too difficult to maneuver and protect, Freyja wondered where the Titan was hiding. It was unlike him to cower from a fight. She refused to check the future for fear of losing her courage at the image of her possible death, and so she continued searching from above. Occasionally one of the winged beasts would take flight and she was forced to slay it.

"Freyja!" Hermes yelled over the noise.

She turned to look at him, his eyes wide in fear as he rushed towards her in his winged sandals and helmet. It was far too late when she realized the fear in his eyes was not related to himself. A spear of pure energy sliced across her torso, causing her to lose her concentration and spiral back to Earth.

She managed to right herself just before she hit the ground, but she might as well have done nothing. As soon as her feet touched the ground, a shock wave of Thanos's familiar black aura knocked her through a glass wall. The shards trembled around her as she tried to stand again, threatening to break into even smaller pieces in result of her proximity.

A purple hand closed around her neck, lifting her off the floor.

"Found him," she managed to hiss into the mic.

He chuckled softly as his fist tightened, cutting off any more words, "I see you've brought a few friends. Luckily, I brought a few of my own."

If the toxins from his 'friends' that were now spreading through her veins, causing her strength to diminish, weren't enough, his strange fear-inducing aura and strangling caused her thoughts to stagger off track.

"I once sought to give this planet away as a prize. It was useless and weak, but I see now that its people are strong-willed. They will be the first to burn, as a message to the worlds that I am coming.

"But what will I do with you?"

He tossed her away from him, sending her crashing through a few walls. She scrambled around for her spear, desperately praying it was near.

"You have every answer I need, every secret the universe has ever held. I would keep you alive solely for your knowledge, as a pet of sorts. Perhaps a slave, even a mistress, as it would be a shame to see such beauty go to waste on an outcast prince. And yet, if I should do such, you would take your own life in attempt to keep what I crave away from me. I ask again, what will I do with you?"

She looked up, the two sets of identical blue eyes meeting each other, "Allow me to ease your suffering."

She charged him, a bolt of energy in her hand, and took a swipe at his face. He managed to dodge enough for her to miss her target, but she still managed to open a wound above his cheek. He snarled, retaliating with a blow to her head, sending her flying like a rag doll once more.

He was physically stronger than her, even if she nearly matched Thor in brute strength, and although she was the gifted one in magic and mind, it would do her little good if the Titan broke her neck. She was left with evasion, as she was not sure just how to attack him. As he walked closer, taking immense pleasure in drawing out the time, she turned and ran into a room full of Roman-style pillars.

Using as little energy as she could, Freyja conjured mirrors in between each pillar to create a labyrinth of reflections. Thanos stopped as he came to her illusion, anger flaring in his blue eyes. She smiled at him before cloaking herself in a spell that reflected light waves around her, rendering her invisible to the eye.

"What are you playing at, Princess? You know you can do nothing but stall for time."

"I have but one question for you before I introduce you to defeat," she said, her voice echoing through the hall. "What did you hope to gain from using Loki? If you wanted leverage, you would have kept him in your grasp. So what part of your plans was Loki a necessity?"

"It is true, I did not need the leverage the prince had to offer. I already have a bargaining chip for you," he pulled something small out of his pocket and held it for her to see.

It was a ring. A ring in the shape of a thick golden dragon that curled around the wearer's finger. Dark sapphires winked where the dragon's eyes would be. She knew this ring, had seen it almost every day of her life. Something snapped in her mind when she recognized it. Freyr's ring.

She cried out in rage, launching herself at the warlord who was almost half a foot taller than her. His eyes widened in surprise but he could do nothing as she pinned his arms down with her knees and wrapped her thin fingers around his neck.

"Where is he?" she growled through clenched teeth, allowing her aura to pulse through him like electricity. "Where?"

He laughed through the pain, not saying a word.

"What have you done with him?"

"I had a feeling you would react in a similar way. How convenient it must be to know that there is still a male heir to the throne."

"There is no throne for an heir to take, you made sure of that."

He gave her a questioning glance and a lopsided grin.

"Do not play games with me. Where is my brother?"

"He is where you are going."

He flipped her over, pinning her to the floor, "You shall be reunited with him soon enough. And you can watch the worlds fall together."

"Never!" she hissed, bringing her knee up.

She managed to hit him in the stomach, if not on her mark, but he loosened his grip anyway. As they rolled, each one trying to gain the upper hand, Thanos pulled out a curved knife and thrust it into her side. She clenched her jaw in pain, conjuring a knife of her own. She managed to drive the blade into his thigh, jumping back as he let her go.

Before he could get up, she teleported to him and kicked hard at his face. She heard a satisfying crack before part of his jaw went slack. He leapt to his feet, hitting her in the left shoulder. Her clavicle snapped under the blow, causing fire to lance up and down her arm and chest. Holding her shoulder awkwardly, she managed to land a jab to his chest and another kick to his jaw.

As he hesitated in pain, she vaulted up and kicked him squarely in the chest. He fell back, hitting one of the pillars hard. Not wasting a second, she flew towards him and broke his uninjured leg with magic. Forming a sword out of her aura, she raised it above her head to strike.

"You can't do it," he slurred. "You may bring yourself to fight, but you will not kill me. You will banish me, just as your people did, and I will return stronger than before."

She turned away from him, "No, I will not. I will not make the mistake of leaving you alive. But killing you is not a punishment, but a release."

"Spare me your conscience. You are weak. Just like the rest."

Her eyes snapped open as she sensed, rather than heard or saw, his movement. She spun around, knocking the knife out of his hand and pushing him into the pillar once more. Pulling out the liquid-like black chain she kept with her, she whipped around him, binding his arms to the stone. The chains stretched like rubber as she pulled them, but turned hard and inflexible when she looped them around his hands and torso. She stood back when she finished, watching the struggling Titan.

"I have decided on your punishment."

She began to chant in the language of her people, using an age-old incantation she never thought she would need. It was a reflection spell of sorts, making the victim suffer the same pain the user had. She had nearly two and a half millennia of suffering, and now she was forcing it on him.

His pupils dilated as it began to run its course, horror reflected in his now black eyes. He screamed out wordlessly as he felt all of her loss, her grief, and her guilt. He felt the pain of his victims, the ones who had died while he chased her. She steeled her nerves as the fear and angst became clear in his cry. He struggled to escape, to break free of the bonds, but the chains held fast.

His tremors caused the building to shake, cracks laced their way through the ceiling, pillars and walls. She prayed silently that the skyscraper would hold. Her energy was already draining from the strength of the spell and the toxins of the beasts, she had nothing to spare to keep the building standing. She continued on with her mantra, giving all her energy to end the one man sought to destroy everything in existence.

He gave one final jerk as she finished, the light gone from his eyes. His face was frozen in a mask of horror, but she could not seem to feel anything for the warlord. Her fatigue was too much, blood leaving her wounds in equal amounts as her strength. She leaned against the pillar in attempt to stay up.

It shifted under her weight, the cracks widening. She looked up in shock as the building gave one shudder before collapsing on top of her. As the rubble tumbled down, she gave into the darkness. Death was welcome at this point and she fell silently into its cold embrace, thinking only of the deep green eyes she would never see again.

* * *

Thor looked around the city streets as the ethereal screeches stopped. It had been a bloody battle and definitely a strange one, even by his standards. Never before had he fought an enemy he could not see, nor one that caused exhaustion through touch. They had, however, been much easier to defeat once their black blood stained them.

"Is that all of them?" a weary Steve said through the earpiece.

Everyone seemed to be alright, if quite weary and battered, and all of the beasts had been slain.

"Has anyone heard from Freyja?" Thor asked suddenly.

The answer was silence. It finally dawned on everyone that she had practically disappeared during the battle.

"The Vanaheim Princess we know has fallen," one single, shaky voice said. "Renascentia has begun. The halfling warrior will rise in her stead. Great change is coming."

"Who speaks of such nonsense?"

"Erland. It is not nonsense I speak, it is prophecy."

Thor opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as the ground shook. He turned to around to face a falling tower, the cement and steel crumbling down like a castle of sand. His eyes widened in shock as he watched it collapse. A telltale wave of magic spread on the wind from the building, making him nauseous.

"Was that-?" Steve began, but he couldn't seem to finish.

Swinging Mjolnir around his head, Thor was lifted into the sky. He flew as quickly as he could to the wreckage. Nothing was left but a large pile of rubble and glass, any evidence of anyone was buried beneath the ruin.

"Freyja!" he called, landing on a large cement chunk.

He scanned the mess, hoping for some sign of life. Erland's words continued to replay in his head. What prophecy was the man speaking of? Sure, the Vanir had kept many secrets but Freyja would tell him and Loki if her death had been foretold. Wouldn't she have?

What would Loki do when he found out about this? He had already lost Freyja once, but could he lose her again? Thor had a feeling Loki would take his anger out on the Nine Realms, the very things she had died to protect. His fury and sorrow would blind him. If he did not hurt himself, he would surely hurt those around him.

Just as his hope began to diminish, he saw a lump of cement move. Racing towards the movement, Thor hopped over bent beams, broken rocks, and shards of glass. He could just make out thin fingers attempting to push the wreckage away. When he reached her, Freyja was starting to pull herself out of the ruined building.

"Freyja," he shouted happily.

She was alright. Bloodied, bruised, broken, and weary she may have been, but she was alive. Her hair was silvery-gray, a sign of overexertion in magic, and her blue eyes were bloodshot. A look of relief passed over her face as she saw Thor.

"Well, that was easier than I expected," she sighed, then threw her arms out wide. "Piece of cake."

Her eyes rolled back into her head at that moment, and she collapsed into the rubble. He held her up, walking away from the debris.

"Back to my place, everyone," Tony said through the mic. "We'll pick up the pieces from there."

"Freyja?" Thor whispered.

"Thor?" she groaned softly.

"Yes?"

"Will Asgard still have me?"

"You will always be welcome in Asgard."

She nodded, "Thank you. I'll even buy you a drink when we arrive."

He chuckled, "I think we'll need more than a drink after this one.

She smiled weakly, and he knew things would be alright after all.

"What a tale this will make when we return home."

"Home…" she echoed.

She did not speak again until they reached Stark Tower.


	21. Chapter 20: When Eyes Open

**_Okay guys. Yes, this is the last chapter, but no, this is not the end. I'm planning a prequel (and eventually a sequel) but first I have to do some serious editing. I won't make any major changes to the plot, just some grammatical problems (I just realized I've been spelling S.H.I.E.L.D. wrong this whole time...). However, the prequel should be up in a couple weeks. Thanks for all of your support, you guys are what keep me writing. I hope you enjoy._**

* * *

_"Nobody can give you freedom. Nobody can give you equality or justice or anything. If you're a man, you take it."_

_ -Malcolm X_

* * *

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad would you say the pain is?" Bruce asked, looking her over.

"Six," she said stiffly.

He gave her a doubtful look.

"Between eight and nine if you count what I'm going to feel very soon."

She lay on her borrowed bed, staring up at the ceiling as she mentally prepared herself for the pain that would greet her. Her shoulder had healed itself, but it had set wrong and needed to be broken again so that it could be set properly. A twisted piece of steel had worked its way into a major nerve in her ankle, causing her to lose feeling in her foot, and the curved knife was still in her side.

Thor was standing at her side, Mjolnir in hand, as he waited for his orders. He wasn't exactly pleased with the prospect of deliberately causing her more pain, but she managed to persuade him. She cut off a large piece of her leather tunic with her good arm, twisted it until it resembled a rope, and placed it between her teeth.

"Are you sure this is the best way?" Thor asked skeptically.

"We can't take her to a hospital like this. Not only would they have no clue what to do with her, but she already made it clear that our drugs and equipment won't work," Bruce answered.

"If Loki hears I did this, he'll have my head for a trophy," he sighed.

She rolled her eyes, focusing on the ceiling with more interest than necessary. She heard Thor take a deep breath before he struck her, not as hard as he would an enemy but still enough to break the bone. A scream was muffled by the leather as she bit down hard on the tough material. She grimaced as Bruce set it for her, pulling out the leather when he was done.

"Thor, could you bring Hermes in?"

All of the gods, and the remainder of the Avengers, were in the living room of Tony's penthouse. Freyja couldn't summon enough strength to create a portal just yet, so the immortals bided their time.

"If you need energy, Freyja, you know I can help."

"No, you are fatigued as it is. Besides, I wish to speak with him."

Thor nodded, walking out of the room. She yelped as Bruce pulled the scrap of metal out of her ankle.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I figured it wouldn't bother you as much if you weren't paying attention."

"Alright. But please take care extracting the knife. It will cause much more damage if you pull it out – ah!"

She cut herself off as he pulled it out straight, causing the curve of the blade to rip through more tissue.

"Straight," she finished as blood poured out of the wound.

"Is it possible for a Vanir to bleed to death?"

"That is the same as asking if decapitation will kill me," she grimaced, wondering what was taking Thor so long.

Iovantucarus, the Celtic god with orange curls and a kind face, came rushing in instead. Thor and Hermes walked in after, looking in shock at the blood-soaked sheets.

"I felt that something was wrong. It seems I was right," the god of healing said as he placed his hand on her cut.

"It is good that your instincts are often right. How fares everyone else?" she asked as his hand began to glow white.

"A few scrapes, some minor wounds, many bruises, nothing too difficult to handle. You seemed to have gained the worst of the damages."

"One of the many hazards of fighting a Titan," she sighed as the cut healed under his palm, her tone only half-joking.

He moved his hand to her shoulder, causing the bone to knit together again.

"You should not allow yourself to obtain such injuries. They mar your beauty. What man will love a woman riddled with cuts?"

She laughed, "You know exactly what my answer is to that."

"Your only love is mischief," he recalled. "You must introduce me to this man of trouble you call your own."

"Perhaps I will. Thank you, Iov."

He nodded and left the room, no doubt to heal the rest of Tony's guests. Thor, Hermes and Bruce stared at her in confusion, reminding her that none of them spoke Gaelic.

"When did you learn the language of the Isles?" Hermes asked, one angular eyebrow arched in query.

"You _must_ have wondered where I ran off to every now and then."

He nodded, "You wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes," she sat up to face him. "I was wondering if you could perhaps hint to Zeus about setting up permanent communication between the immortal realms."

"Athena, with all due respect, do you know exactly how dangerous that could be?"

"Our differences may cause problems, but the possible alliances are worth the trouble."

"And if you cause a war between the worlds?"

"I know what I'm doing, Hermes. War will not break out among us."

"How can you be sure?"

"Just think about it, alright?"

He sighed, "I'll see what I can do, but I make no promises. My tongue is not made of gold, and you know how adamant Zeus can be."

"Thank you."

"I suppose you're returning to Asgard."

She nodded as Bruce walked out the door.

"Make sure to visit Olympus soon, we all miss you."

"I'm sure Hera and Aphrodite would be thrilled in their own ways to see me again," she said sarcastically.

"Hestia would keep them in their place."

"That she would."

He bowed his head slightly and walked out. Thor turned to watch the lean god before facing Freyja.

"He is similar to Loki."

"That he is," she replied, standing up. "If they met, they would either be the closest of friends or most terrible enemies."

"Just how many languages do you speak?"

"Shall I include the various dialects or simply the main languages?"

He shook his head, "No wonder the Greeks named you goddess of wisdom. Zeus has told me some interesting stories. Speaking of Zeus and the other gods you invited, how will you send them back?"

"The same way I brought them," she scoffed as they walked out the door. "Honestly, Thor, what good is a head on your shoulders if you don't use it?"

He laughed, recalling when Loki had once said the same thing. Freyja smiled as well, looking forward to the moment she would return to Asgard. But that would have to wait, as Tony had decided to throw a celebratory party. Thor was having her bring a barrel of Asgardian ale by magic. She had the feeling Tony and Asgardian liquor of any sort was a recipe for disaster. She just hoped she could stop Tony before he got alcohol poisoning.

* * *

Freyja, hair returned to its usual shade of red, walked out of her borrowed room, wishing fervently that she could disappear. Natasha had, for some reason she could not fathom, decided to apologize for the arguments and given her a dress for the party. She truly had no alternative than to wear the too-revealing gown.

It was made of scarlet silk-like material, with a strapless sweetheart neckline and split in the left side that went to her mid-thigh. The cowl back was cut low so that it nearly reached the small of her back. If it were up to Freyja, she would have used magic to create long flowing sleeves and a more reserved hemlin. But she didn't want to ruin the shaky relationship she had just recently established with the agent.

Tony was the first to spot her, pulling his rather unnecessary sunglasses down to get a better look. He grinned, sauntering over to her as if he didn't have a girlfriend.

"I have to say, that dress suits you. Although you do look like Jessica Rabbit. But, thinking back on Loki's helmet, I suppose that name's a little _too_ accurate."

"Jessica Rabbit?" she asked.

"Never mind. Let's go see what Captain Popsicle is up to."

As it turned out, Steve was at the bar with what looked vaguely like Tony's best scotch. Freyja had the unfortunate knowledge of every type of liquor Tony owned, courtesy of him having her taste every one of them. Steve choked on his drink when he saw her.

"Is that my fifty-year-old Glenfiddich?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

Steve pulled his eyes away from Freyja, face red as a beet, to glance at the glass, "I don't know. Clint gave it to me, said it was the best."

"Damn it! Where _is_ Robin Hood? I'd better show him what he gets when he steals from King John."

He walked off without another word, leaving an amused Steve and a lost Freyja.

"I actually understood that reference," he said with a laugh.

"That makes one of us," she replied, sitting down.

He gestured to the dress, "Tony's idea?"

"Natasha's, actually. Who is Jessica Rabbit, by the way?"

"No clue. But you look ravening – ravishing. I meant ravishing," he corrected himself hastily.

"Thank you," she answered, biting back a laugh. "Although I would have gone with something more…modest."

"That's Tasha for you. I'm surprised you're over here, practically alone. Tasha already had to fight off about four of your friends."

"Mild disregard spell."

"Really?"

"Being the goddess of beauty is not always a benefit. Men cannot differentiate love from obsession or lust. No matter how I change my face, I cannot appear plain. It is a side effect of my mixed blood. I'm stuck with using spells to turn away men."

"You're complaining about being beautiful?"

"I suppose I shouldn't be, but it becomes tiresome when I find myself facing suitors who only want my hand in marriage for the bragging rights, as Tony calls them."

"And Loki doesn't want bragging rights?"

She laughed, "He wouldn't mind having them, as everyone else brags about their winnings. But he was able to court me for three centuries, if you count the days by Midgardian time, without ever so much as hinting that he had me. I am one of the few people he respects, and the only one he truly listens to. I'm lucky to have him."

"As opposed to…?"

"As opposed to having a husband who would prefer me to have an empty head, as most Asgardian men do."

"All muscle and no brains?"

"You have no idea. The one reason Loki and I got along so well: we both preferred tactics to sparring."

"You can't be too bad at fighting. I heard you took out over twenty-five of those invisible things."

"I said I _didn't_ fight, not that I couldn't."

"Do you ever just say the entire truth?"

She faltered, thinking back on when she was in Asgard. Loki had once asked her that exact same question. As if merely the thought called him, her eyes caught the familiar glint of green among the crowd. He was wearing a black suit again, a striped green and gold scarf hung loosely around his neck.

"Yes," she answered. "You simply have to know when to listen."

She turned to face Steve, who was giving her a funny look, and checked the near future for a second.

"This coming Thursday, go to the Vineyard Café at precisely noon. Ask to sit outside, and make sure you wear a blue shirt. Remember to calm down when you speak and, for the sake of the Yggdrasil, make sure you get her number."

"What?" he looked at her as if she had said she had seen Tony making out with Clint.

"As crazy as that sounds, you're just going to have to trust me. You'll find yourself so much happier. _Don't_ be late."

Without another word, she got up and walked towards Loki. It seemed that no one but her could see him. When he noticed her approaching, he nodded towards the overhang outside. She altered her path so she was now walking out. Loki stood on the circular overhang, hands behind his back. The city lights glowed faintly against the darkness of the night, causing shadows to play across his face.

"I'm guessing only I can see you."

"And only I can see you."

"How did you know I would be here?"

"Heimdall," he said with a smirk. "It is a very long story, one for another time."

She stopped when she was almost a foot away from him, but not quite. He leaned his head down slightly to meet her eyes.

"You graced the soldier with a dance. May I have the same honor?" he held out his hand.

She entwined her fingers in his as he brought her closer with one arm snaked around her waist. He led her into a traditional Asgardian dance, bodies swaying slightly to a song no one else could hear.

"I must say, I am quite envious of all men who lay eyes on you in this dress. I would say it suits you, but I'm afraid you outshine the dress. Besides, I'm still partial to you in emerald; even your usual cobalt has become a favorite of mine."

She laughed softly, "Perhaps I'll wear emerald tomorrow."

"Ah, yes. You're returning on the morrow. And, I sense there is something you will want to discuss with the All-Father when you arrive."

She took her hand of his shoulder, not pausing in the dance, and summoned Freyr's dragon ring. Loki glanced at it for a single second before looking at her again.

"Can you be sure that Freyr is even alive? I don't wish to bring you more sorrow, but I don't want you to chase after empty hints only to find your brother long since dead."

"If there is one thing Thanos unintentionally picked up in Vanaheim, it's that he never lies. He's out there, Loki, I just have to find him."

He sighed, "Why do I have the feeling you're not going to stop until you either find him or his body?"

"Because you know me too well," she said with a laugh.

"Do I?" he asked in mock surprise. "Funny, I wasn't aware of that."

"You know almost everything about me."

"Such as?" he said in a playful tone.

She knew where he was trying to go with this, but she wasn't going to give in to him too easily. She was determined to tease him just as he once did to her. A grin crept across her lips as she reached up to whisper into his ear.

"Such as exactly how I love to be kissed."

"Simple, you-"

"Show me."

A mischievous glint flickered in his eyes and she realized she had dug herself into a hole. He let go of her hand to lift her chin up slightly, leaning down so their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulled back, a false thoughtfulness crossed his face.

"No, that's not it. How about…?"

He trailed short, tender kisses that started at the corner of her lips and ended when he reached the hollow just below her earlobe. She stifled a sigh, not wanting to let him know he had won just yet.

"Or perhaps…" he murmured against her skin.

He brushed his lips down to her neck where he placed teasing, open-mouthed kisses over her pulse. She tensed when he bit softly into skin, his grin widening at her response.

"Hmm. Ah, I remember now."

He moved quickly to her collarbone, not giving her time to refrain from gasping as he sucked on the still tender spot. He laughed against her skin as she blushed.

"Was I correct?"

"Took you long enough," she answered, trying and failing to sound aloof.

"Must you wait until the sunrise to return?"

"It's nearly midnight. Most of Asgard is sleeping."

"And I'd have you all to myself until dawn. All the more reason to return now, if you ask me."

"Loki!"

He laughed at her appalled expression, thoroughly enjoying teasing her. Remembering part of the reason he had come, he dug through the inside of his coat and pulled out a small deck of hand-drawn cards.

"I brought you these. A little entertainment until the morning."

She took the cards, recognizing her mother's drawings on the surfaces, "Where did you find these? I hid them so none but myself could find them."

"Love, you've hidden a knife in your mattress since Merek. Besides, the dimensions for your bed were off, I merely investigated. How long have you had a hidden compartment at the foot of your bed?"

"A little before I asked for Queen Van's journals."

He nodded, "You had quite a number of unusual belongings in the drawer. Especially this."

He pulled a Kris the length of her forearm out of his coat, the hilt embedded with jewels that seemed to flash wickedly.

"What are you doing with an elven ceremonial dagger in your rooms?"

"It was there in case of an emergency. I suggest you put it back and don't touch the blade, you'll wish you hadn't brought it if you do."

"Poisoned?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"With Hel-tongue elixir."

"Painful. What sort of emergency are you preparing for?"

"One in which something unimaginably dangerous will need to be slain."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but recognized she wasn't comfortable with the topic, and returned it to a pocket on the inside of his coat, "I will replace it, if it pleases you. But, tell me: is there anything you did today that I should know about?"

"Thanos is dead, the Tesseract temporarily safe, and I am safe, if a bit tired."

"How was he dispatched?"

"Mirrored victim spell, a powerful one. The building collapsed after."

He could feel her guilt on the subject, knowing that she did not enjoy death of any kind, even if the victim deserved it.

"And yet here you are, a vision in scarlet."

"You know it takes more than a few tons of rock and metal to kill me."

He laughed, shaking his head at the thought.

"By the way, earlier this afternoon, Tony and I were speaking about the damages to this tower due to a few of my 'godly friends', as he called them, and mentioned the most peculiar thing."

"And what would that be?"

"He said he was simply content that he would only have to replace a glass wall rather than an entire floor due to a, and this is Tony speaking, 'god-shaped dent in the concrete'. That wouldn't have anything to do with you, would it?"

He grimaced, distinctly remember becoming the Hulk's personal punching bag, "Possibly."

"Care to explain how you created said dent in Tony's floor?"

"Remember when you accused me of wounded pride over an attack I received while here?"

"Yes…"

"The 'said dent' was the product of my confrontation with what your friends call the Hulk."

"Took a couple hits from Bruce's less restrained side, did you? I can't say you didn't deserve it."

"Whose side are you on?"

"I'm a Vanir, therefore I'm neutral. It's a required trait."

"Of course you are," he scoffed.

"Did you want to know what these cards are for? Or did you bring them simply out of the goodness of your heart?"

He pulled her closer to whisper in her ear, "You know very well, my heart is as frozen as yours once was."

She rolled his eyes at his dramatics, "Is that a yes for curiosity, then?"

"Always so blunt," he sighed.

"We can't all be theatrical," she pointed out.

"Yes, I was curious as to why you have these and what they're for."

She summoned a small table and chairs with the wave of her hand, taking a seat as she did so. He sat down across from her, watching with interest as she spread the cards, face down, across the table.

"They were my mother's, my true mother's, cards. She drew the images herself, and had a Vanir enchant them so that one can read the future with them. Ysmay gave them to me, along with my mother's journals and drawings.

"Run your hand over the cards and pick three that feel different to you."

"Define different," he said doubtfully.

"Try and you'll understand."

After a second's hesitation, he brushed his fingertips across the cards just soft enough to not disturb them. His eyebrows shot up as he reached a card near the center.

"So that is what you meant," he said, pushing it towards her without flipping it over.

"Pick two more."

He continued along the line of cards, pushing two more away from the rest. She picked up the first one he had picked, revealing a curved dagger and a hot iron crossed over a man in blood red robes. An hourglass was held in the man's hands.

"The monk's temporary trials. You face tribulations that afflict a great deal of bodily pain. Luckily, they are almost at an end."

The next card was a place rather than a collection of objects. It showed a snowy woodland area, everything except the trunks of the trees were covered in a blanket of flurries. A single flower, a pale pink heart-shaped bloom, stood in the white world like a bloodstain on silk.

"A single Newborn's Love blossom amidst the winter. You will find yourself among several surprises that involve your loved ones. They may be pleasant or unfortunate, but they will come."

The final card was an unblemished view of the sunrise in Alfheim. The skies were painted in layers of pink, orange, yellow, and gold. A single shadow, that of a bird in flight, obscured the view.

"The eagle's flight at sunrise. Just as a dark event comes to a close in your life, you will find pure happiness that will be worth what you have faced. An ending well suited for you," she added as she finished.

He smiled, "Good to know that I have more hardships to face before I find happiness. What is in store for you?"

"You want me to read my own future?" she asked as she shuffled the cards back in.

"Why not? Amuse me for a few minutes."

She shrugged, seeing no reason to decline, as she spread the cards out once more. Picking the three cards that seemed to stick to her fingers, she put the others away.

The first was of a man in animal furs, a sword held aloft in his hands.

"The warrior's victory. I will succeed in my recent endeavors, no matter how difficult I may find them. But triumph may turn sour if I do not tread carefully."

Loki looked at her with a partially amused expression, not sure whether she was finally adding some dramatic elements to her reading for his entertainment or she was being completely serious.

She stopped when she turned over the second card, her face paling. It was a picture of two men embracing. This would seem like a prospective card had it not been for the taller man stabbing a knife through the back of the other.

"The brother's betrayal," she hissed quietly. "I will find myself doubting the trust of those I love. One closest to me will deceive me gravely, costing me much."

When she flipped over the last card, a strangled choke escaped her lips. Loki leaned forward slightly to get a better look at the card.

It was a strange card, a mixture of morbid and charming qualities. At the very bottom lay the body of a dead women, her golden tresses spread around her as blood poured down her dress. Above the corpse, an identical women rose into the sky. This one had feathered wings and a sword in one hand.

"What is it?" he asked, watching as Freyja stared at the card in horror.

"The angel's rising. It symbolizes eternal peace of the mind and soul."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"There is only one form of this known to my people."

It all made sense now, as she stared into Loki's green eyes. The 'green-eyed serpent' that would change the fate of the 'All-Father's pride'. The evanescence of the elder race and the blood-painted paradise. Signs, all of them, signs that she was too blind to notice before.

"Love," Loki's smooth voice faltered uncharacteristically. "Freyja, love, what is wrong? What is the one form?"

She barely whispered the answer, the words nearly dying before they left her mouth. He had almost missed it, the one word she couldn't seem to say louder than a sigh.

"Death."


End file.
